It's A Humble Path
by A m r a k l o ve
Summary: She thinks of him when there's nothing else to focus on but the memory of the contours of his face and the bitterness of his smile. Perhaps, all she craved was his touch at this point, but she just kept walking at a fair distance, and he didn't question anything, as usual. / Post-Canon; 699-700 setting.
1. The Wait

**A/N:** So I tried to write something. I'm going to make this a multi-chapter fanfic, and hope for the best 'cuz it's my first try at something other than a plain one-shot. It would mean a loooot if you guys try to leave at least a 'nice' in the reviews, I get really excited and write even more when I read wonderful comments on my stories (even if most of my writing doesn't make sense even to me lol). So, this being said, I'll try to update as fast as I can.

Rating might change as the story progresses; I'm trying to restrain my fingers from writing M rated content bUT IT'S SO HARD.

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**Chapter 1**

**_\- The Wait -_**

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Nights of solitude and hopeful wishes come to be too repetitive. One night after the other. Same glistening eyes. Same silent words. Same blinding pain. Same thing.

Sakura finds herself looking at the stars from the windowsill in her apartment; looking at the way they shine and glint in the darkness of the universe. She finds herself wondering if Sasuke sees them in the same way she does—alone in bed clutching at the idea of hearing the velvet caress in his voice once again, maybe even, somewhere in the dark paths of his sinful mind, he may be saving a small, clear, untainted space for her only, too—and barely shaking her head after realising that he would never do that.

She wonders.

But wondering is what she does, and wondering is the only thing she can do in the loneliness and the uselessness of her current position with him. He left with an unspeakable—but very much heard—promise. He left to redeem himself; to get rid of the wrongful doings done in the past; to travel; to forgive and be forgiven; to stop the guilt from spreading; to observe and admire the loveliness of the world that once he was too blinded to see; to live more than he has ever lived in just a few years.

But, in any case presented to the pink-haired woman, he left to come back.

She still hopes he does, one day. No matter how far, no matter the struggles: he would return. She still hopes he does, one day, one night, enter through the big, wooden doors of Konoha to greet the people he once so much did despise, with rather newly found understatement and confidence in his poise.

She hopes, but sometimes hope is not just enough. Hope, sometimes, doesn't bring her the reassurance she needs that Sasuke is fine in his travels; doesn't let her know the due date of his arrival; doesn't make her less preoccupied. It makes her all but faithful to her resolve, unfortunately.

She removes herself from the window in a swift motion before her mind can think about it too much.

A sole tear escapes her eye, though, suddenly and without warning, and, before she can do anything about it, she grabs the curtains to close them abruptly. As if the light from the moon up above can burn her very soul.

Not a single light of the stars shines through it anymore in the cold of december, and she sighs contently laying down back in bed, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

287 nights after the year after the war, when he left, and so many more to come.

She closes her eyes.

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On day 444, Sakura finally accepts that this is not going to be easy, and that the road she's taking leading to Sasuke's life is going to be the hardest thing of all. But she accepts it. She embraces the time needed; the desperation of going to find him when she feels down; the fact that he's been away for so long; the realisation that anywhere she looks she's reminded of him and his travels.

She thinks of him when there's nothing else to focus on but the memory of the contours of his face and the bitterness of his smile.

But she accepts all of it. All of it regarding _him_, she accepts.

It's hard first, but she finds that the more the days passed by, the easier it was for her to cope with the ideas and the lingering sensation of hopelessness. She feels—not happy, but—close to happy, in those moments.

People said he was in wind now.

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"Da," the small voice blurts out as she's standing to the side of the big, colourful room. Ino is holding him but Sakura ponders how the parents of the baby let the loud blonde carry him around—moving from person to person, craving conversation. The baby wasn't crying for once, strangely. "Ino," she calls, eliciting the response she'd wanted; Ino turns to look at her and approaches. "Hey, want to pick him up? My arm is going numb."

Sakura doesn't comment on how the current lightness of Boruto is unable to get anyone tired, let alone let any extremities go numb. She doesn't comment on how the excitement of being free to roam through the crowd in the living room is very much obvious in her sapphire eyes.

In any case, she nods. "Sure, let me." She smiles, picking him up and cradling him in her expert arms. "Hello sweetie, auntie Sakura is here to save you from an early death."

Ino huffs unceremoniously and walks away only after she gives the pinkette an ugly face. Sakura walks away from the multitude, too.

Naruto had thrown the party as soon as he could, inviting anyone and everyone of his—and Hinata's—circle of friends, celebrating his son's birth. "As soon as he could" was in fact a month later. Sakura had advised them to wait some time so the baby wouldn't be as vulnerable to the outside world.

"Hey, wanna go with mama and papa?"

Boruto laughs and reaches in a very futile attempt to grasp—with very tiny hands, too tiny and sloppy to catch anything yet. He's not ready to coordinate his voluntary movements, she muses—the medic's rose tresses, completely ignoring her question. Or most probably not understanding a single word she'd said.

Sakura skips through the multitude of bodies until she's facing the couple she'd been looking for, utterly beautiful and flawless as usual.

"Oh, there you are," Hinata says as she sees her son in her arms. Sakura makes a move as to give the kid to her, and she takes him with a bright, bright smile full of love and affection. "I hope you haven't caused much trouble to Sakura-san, uh?"

"Da." Hinata sighs contently.

Boruto laughs again, muttering words that don't make any sense; babbling nonsense. Hinata's big smile and pleasant eyes are forgotten to Sakura as she looks at the blonde next to the Hyuuga heiress.

Naruto is looking at her. His big blue eyes are orbs piercing through her persona with a warmth she'd needed for a long time now—

"Sakura-chan, I heard Sasuke is around Fire country," he says. Then, by all means of being the hyperactive, loud blond man that he is: he beams with determination and a hint of humour. "The bastard better be thinking of coming back soon, 'ttebayo!"

Sakura barely laughs, but rather smiles with courtesy and looks at him once again. His eyes.

She knows Naruto is well aware of her feelings for Sasuke. She knows he wants to help with the waiting and the tension, but what he doesn't know is that it's no use.

Sakura is already accustomed to waiting. Sakura is already ready to take on any waiting, with patience.

She excuses herself and walks to the door of the big house of the party, weirdly unable to breathe with ease. No one is there. Then, she lets her mind wonder.

—But then they pierce her with something bizarre. She realises something that has been hidden in the confines of her brain, and instantly averts her gaze. Just by looking at him she's reminded of another man, and something else. Something at the top of her brain—hurting, hurting so much with the realisation that it may be very much true. Something that doesn't really include him or anyone else in the room full of people celebrating a few months of health and fortune for the hero's son, and the newly happily married couple that consummated their marriage right after the moon almost fell down upon them, for that matter. But rather, a good-looking Uchiha that's been absent for too long. Something scratching and biting at her hopeful heart. Something she knows it's been there from the start.

Something she's felt for 737 days, nights.

Longing.

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It's not fair, she thinks. It's not fair at all.

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The hospital is less crowded and more peaceful since the war ended a little more than two years ago—778 days if she's specific. Nevertheless, the smell of disinfectant and blood remain even in the darkest corners of the long halls.

For that, Sakura is glad—at least there are still some remains of what a hospital should be like in the building. But it doesn't cease to remind her of the putrid odour and feeling of all the lifeless bodies—of poor young and old souls who met an unreversible, bloody fate—found scattered around and through the fields of dirt and rocks in the aftermath of the unfortunate event.

For that, though, Sakura is slightly disappointed. She doesn't really want to be reminded of all the lives lost and all the weeps and pained cries of the people who met their families destroyed by the most powerful ninjas in the history of the shinobi world—now they're dead, but the loss is still everywhere she looks—every day she walks into the glass doors of her work-place.

But, she's mostly glad. For everything. Naruto and Hinata—her long time best friend and another person of the few people the female can trust—together, and happy, and with a little baby boy. Temari seemed to be getting to her senses and Shikamaru seemed to come crashing from cloud nine to establish something in his life seriously. They were coming in terms with each other, but anything else: she didn't know. Tenten worked at her own establishment of weapons—lacking some clients at the peaceful times, but still selling all the same—content. Ino, the ugly pig of a best friend had married the stoic and still-not-very-emotional Sai, her teammate. When she thought about it, it seemed surreal, but they managed and handled each other pretty well (even though Sai still bought and read books about how to feel emotions, but Ino didn't seem to mind). Almost everyone she knew and was very much alive and breathing, was relatively happy.

Sighing, she stepped into her office to notice a pile of papers from the hokage on her table. The sight of it being huge didn't escape her mind, and then she closed the door. Maybe she wasn't the only one _not_ that happy.

Kakashi was being a lazy ass again...

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Her door opens.

"Sakura! Wanna tag along? Naruto's inviting us to eat ramen. And, well, some others too."

Snort.

"Why doesn't that surprise me."

Ino purses her lips and smiles after a while, "come on, forehead," she's reminded of the nickname from their childhood and looks at her, "wouldn't wanna miss free food."

Sakura almost chokes on the air from the sole mention; the meaning behind those words. Her jaw drops and closes back up again. "Wait—he's paying?"

Dropping all she'd been holding on the table of her office at the nod from the blond woman in front of her, she walks out of the door. "I'm in."

"Thought so!"

They laugh.

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"Sakura?"

"Mm?"

"You've been silent." Snapping out of her thoughts, she looks at her best friend and sighs, feeling her previous train of thought demising away, slowly at her strong resilience. "Sorry, Ino."

"Is something wrong?"

Hearing the sound of chopsticks hitting the tables and voices scattered in the large establishment was something due for a change. Naruto had, for once, invited them to a nice restaurant, with different dishes and food to choose from (yet still he chose to eat ramen).

Glancing at most of her friends eating and chatting away the hours made her feel slightly off. "I'm not feeling well," she but almost whispered to the blond, a small lump forming in her throat, "I think I'll take my leave."

Giving a tiny—and what she thought was reassuring—smile, she leaves the place.

The heaviness of her heart is too much to bear, she thinks, as her mind struggles to eliminate the knowledge that she may have left because of a missing—and missed—presence at the table.

Black coal eyes and brooding, demanding physique.

She quickens her pace. She doesn't want to think about him.

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On day 800 Sakura lays in bed while her heart is worn on her sleeve and her soul is out of her body—probably lost, wondering about time and space and trying to look for a desperate boy with blood-stained hands but in need for love—leaving her with no thoughts to think; no annoying realisations to try to eliminate.

Just her, the stars, and time passing by.

She can't wonder anymore.

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She can't wonder; can't think; can't stop counting the days. It's frustrating to no end and it pisses her off more than it should.

Can't stop missing. _Him_.

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It's when she wakes up one in 840 days he's been absent that she really opens her eyes wide. Her palms are sweaty, her lower lip quivering against the thought of the person behind the small gesture. A knock on her door sounds and echoes yet once again against the empty walls of her home, even after ten seconds pass, the sound stays inside her brain.

And she's already putting on her robe, quickly, fidgeting with the straps engulfing her waist. For a moment she's glad she'd bought a new apartment after his leave. Brushing away wild strands of hair that cover her vision, she stands in front of the un-harming object like a frozen statue.

Because she knows the person behind the wooden door of the entrance is him.

_She knows._

His presence, his aura, and his chakra are printed in her heart with unwashable ink; an unforgettable touch that lingers. She could sense him more than a mile away if she tried, for sure.

As soon as she opens the door she's greeted with more than she'd ever expected. Him. It's him. But also it's not.

His eyes are as piercing cold as before but with a hint of tiredness; knowledge; warmth. Just a bit, but enough for her to smile. His face more defined, cheeks less rounded, bandana around his forehead, keeping his bangs in place. His hair longer and clothes baggier.

"Sakura."

Voice sulkier, masculine, low. She shivers in the heat of spring.

"Sasuke-kun."

He nods, eyeing her for the first time in years as she lets him go inside.

She stops counting the days that night.


	2. The Return

**A/N:** Second chapter! Yay! Sorry I took so long, (and sorry this piece is so short) but I couldn't decide what to do with this one. I'm sure chapter 3 will be posted sooner. Enjoy and review your thoughts :)

**P.S:** Thank you for those wonderful reviews and reviewers. They made my day srsly xD

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**Chapter 2**

_**\- The Return -**_

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The hospital was busier than usual one week. Just because—with no precise reason or will, with no apparent evidence of a good, measured threat.

There was none.

One day, ANBU came in barging through crystal doors, few injured and few carrying the injured. They said a myriad of rogue ninjas had attacked them spontaneously. They claimed it was planned.

But she didn't listen to the confessions and elaborate explications of the event: she just healed them, perfectly unscarred as soon as she was done. Let Kakashi deal with whatever little problems came here and there.

But, after two days passed by with new, harmed ANBU reporting similar attacks, she started to worry.

The same patterns of injuries were seen, every time she inspected each one of them. Superficial injuries with—not poison, she had made sure of looking out for any traces of poisonous substances—a type of fungi developing from the inside out. Triple the amount of people that weren't there a week ago were now at the hospital.

Soon, Sakura was too busy to eat meals properly; to sleep regularly; to even have any contact with anyone outside work.

Soon, Sakura couldn't see Sasuke for days.

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_Four._

That was the number of days it took for her to see him again.

She had felt it; the itching it gave her when she thought about the mere possibility of him leaving again on short notice. She remembered, almost two years ago, watching his back disappear in the mass of trees; the feel of his fingertips touching her forehead and the softness of his smile leaving an unforgettable trace. She remembered watching him go and the anxiousness of seeing him again. No matter how hard she scratched, the anxiousness wouldn't dissipate.

However these thoughts shook her to the core, they were not enough to make her crumble, yet.

Now, she had more important things to focus on. Such as the aetiology of the bruises; the causes, and the antidote—if there even was one—for the, at least, fifty ANBU ambushed five days ago.

And she needed to find the cure as soon as possible, for she had to prevent the massive deaths soon to come. The external type of virus, or infection, was unknown to her eyes and expert chakra; so she'd need to make use of her memory and her medical books. At least, she thought, she could stop the spreading of the cells for now—she had applied the necessary chakra on every single ANBU, and they were yet to show any signs (whichever they may be). She hoped that was enough.

Gathering strength in her legs, she tucked the key to her apartment in her skirt pocket, left the white, medic coat on the hanger, and walked out of her office, along the halls, and into the night, cold air.

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Her legs are ready to give out, she notes with clear brutality. She takes a step, she takes two, and soon she's shivering out in the chill of the night. It's quite late; the streets are bare of any person; the lights are on, at least, so she can make out the shadows of things.

Tugging her sleeves to the end of her hands, so it covers them entirely, she wraps her arms around herself and starts walking down the path leading away from the hospital.

"Sakura."

She wipes her head to the right, in front of her, where a very clothed and dark Uchiha is staring at her. He has his sole arm hanging limply from his form—the other one absent and covered with fine, dark fabric—and his knuckle is a hard white on already pale skin. He looks _mesmerising_.

She blushes as the thoughts enter her mind (she tells herself her cheeks are pink from the cold), finding that her feet are moving closer to him until she's merely three meters from the man.

"Sasuke-kun?"

"Aa," then, he turns around, and right before her eyes does he start to walk in front of her, leading her into the depths of darkness. She stills a little before willing herself to walk behind him, beside him, and right in front of him. It's easy for him to quicken his pace in two strides. He's walking next to her in less than five seconds.

She doesn't lessen the amount of effort she's putting into hurriedly walking to her house; she notices she does, though, lessen her pace to a slower one to match his calmer steps. She doesn't know if it's because she's tired (or because Sasuke is walking alongside her for once), but she doesn't think about the reasons. It is already frustrating enough to see him after so many days, apparently with no further explanations of why he was there in the middle of the night. Did it have any hidden meaning?

She found him a few steps from the hospital, hand hanging limply from his side, the other sleeve sticking to his body from the lack of flesh. Was he, by any chance, waiting for her? But it couldn't be, right? She gets out of the hospital so late, that there is not one soul outside, and barely any staff in the hospital. He wouldn't be able to know her schedule, either, right?

Sakura has been mature enough for a long time already to know that a male accompanying a female only meant the male wanted something else. But, glancing at Sasuke from the peripheral of her vision, she knows none of what she knows applies to the type of male next to her. _Sasuke_ is different. Sakura knows he needs to find himself first, in order to pay attention to other matters. It's just the hierarchy of needs.

Whatever predictions she was formulating in her head, they were interrupted by a warmth enveloping her body.

She freezes in her spot. Her fingers, frozen by the temperature, are automatically around the tips of the large cloth—it reaches the ground, so she tries to grab it a bit higher, covering her nose in the process too.

Catching a glance to her left, she sees Sasuke is not looking at her, but rather tense with just a long-sleeved, tight, black shirt. She tugs the cloak to her body slightly tighter, and sighs a puff of smoke to the air. "Thank you," she murmurs.

He nods and they fall back into moving forward.

As soon as they reach her house, she stops, and he does the same a second later.

"You know, you didn't have to walk me to my house."

"Your chakra was dim." She looks at him.

"I'm capable of getting home with no inconveniences."

He shifts uncomfortably, clearly at the disadvantage. "I know," he says, at last. Sakura bites on her lower lip and slowly sends a signal to her numb fingers to let go of the fabric. Gently, she hands him the cloak. He takes it while looking at her. "Anyway, it was considerate of you, Sasuke-kun."

He doesn't say anything—not that she expected him to—and she, rather quickly, excuses herself from him, bids him goodnight, and enters the warmth of her house. She almost moans unknowingly from the pleasure her muscles are suddenly exposed to. But, instead, she stays close to the door and wonders why she even tried to counter his reasons for escorting her to her apartment. It's Sasuke, however, and she doesn't need to know the why of his actions.

He used to take unnecessary walks with her the year after the war, and she never knew exactly why—only that he did it and she appreciated it—but he was Sasuke and she was Sakura and she did appreciate him trying to initiate, whatever he was initiating.

Letting herself enter the warmth of the living room, she swears the smell of his clothes still hangs on her nose. She shakes her head; the smell goes away; she balls her hands into fists before letting them relax.

She can't be lusting over a lonely boy anymore, she needs to set her goals clearer. She had, after all, more important things to do.


	3. The Touch

**A/N:** Here you go, a longer chapter. I'm not so happy with this one but I guess it serves for development :P I'm already writing chapter 4 btw, mwhaha. I would _love_ if my readers review after this and let me know how was it, really, plz plz. Okay, I'm done, you can read now.

*Inserts disclaimer here*

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**Chapter 3**

_**\- The Touch -**_

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In the early spring there are still traces of the cold winter that left not so long ago. There is trembling wind and gusts of shivering, young leaves and short grass beginning to grow. The flowers are not yet blooming, maybe testing the sun and the freezing water to finally come out of fragile receptacles. The animals are still in their homes, starting to end hibernation.

And Sakura is waiting to begin life again.

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She's done with all of Kakashi's papers as one o'clock comes close through the sun moving up in the sky. When she manages to step out of her office, after hours, a nurse approaches her quickly to let her know that Tsunade wanted to see her.

Sakura almost sighs in exasperation—her day was getting busier and busier by the minute. But, instead, she nods respectfully, and walks the halls into Tsunade's office.

A glare is the first thing she receives. Then a sigh. Then, a smile of recognition. Sakura frowns.

"Sorry," the blonde mutters, "I thought you to be someone else."

Sakura smiles, politely, closing the door in her steps. The desk, she notes from afar, is tidier than usual. This seems to make the pinkette purse her lips and perk her ears. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes." She puts a hand on her own forehead and then lets it rest on the big, metal desk. She speaks again, after a while, watching Sakura sit on a chair on the other side of the table, facing the woman. "Have you checked up on the ANBU that were reported as superficially injured? The fifty you partly healed?" Tsunade asks. Sakura shakes her head in a negative answer; from side to side.

She hadn't checked up on them since the previous day. Although they were recuperating from the infection, and the chances of survival were pretty high, she still had to check on them everyday. Blame Kakashi, if anything. "I haven't, yet. Is there something wrong?"

"Do you still think it's a fungal infection?" Tsunade voices, looking at her.

"I assumed it could be, when I inspected them," Sakura retorts, unsure of the outcome of the conversation.

Tsunade takes out a few scans and papers from under a pile of yellow folders, handing them to her. "Look," she says, "there is no fungi or bacteria in the injuries. Whatever you saw must have healed when you treated them."

Sakura eyes over the papers. After a while, she looks up at the blonde with more than a hundred questions. "So," Sakura clears her throat, confused, "they're getting better?"

"They're getting worse."

The confusion grows even more.

Sakura's eyes widen considerably for a moment—ANBU had been with no apparent signs of anything in all the days inspecting them. Tsunade interrupts her attempted talk, ready to elaborate. "They can't seem to motor most of their voluntary movements. They can't move their limbs for the most part, and few can walk without paralysation."

"When did this happen?"

Tsunade shrugs, "no one really knows if it started this morning or if it was developing from the start, but a nurse reported the symptoms to me today."

"Should I order a few MRI's for the brain?"

"Do what you should."

"I see..." Puffing air from her lungs, she bites her lip in order to stop the million questions she wants to ask, because she knows it's better if she just answers them in an objective manner—with the issue at hand.

"I know it's your case. I trust you have something in mind," Tsunade voices.

"I do." She stands up, slowly, "thank you. I'll just go see, then." Straightening out her pristine coat, she flashes the best smile she can at the blonde. "I'll give you a detailed report tonight."

Bowing, again, she exits the room with another problem in her head.

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She writes the report, but it's brief and avoiding the topic almost completely. Sakura still doesn't know the name of the illness the ANBU have, and she doesn't want to give them medicine for something they don't need—something she doesn't know for sure they could have. She really needs to know what's wrong with them, and quick.

_11:26 PM._

Although, for today, she thinks it's enough research. Tomorrow she can continue looking and also organising herself.

Glancing at the stack of papers in her hands, she sighs, and proceeds to enter Tsunade's office once again. The blonde was soon to be going home, so she needed to be quick. "Tsunade-sama."

"You have it? Great, hand it over."

"No news, apparently. Tomorrow I'll continue searching for anything that might give me clues, but, for today, I think I'll go home," she says as she hands her the neat papers. Tsunade nods, leaving them on the corner of her desk.

Sakura turns to leave.

"Wait, Sakura," she says. Sakura turns around to look at the woman with expecting eyes, "yes?"

"I," she pauses for a moment, as if the world were too big to carry on her shoulders, "I've to tell you something."

Sakura is fully listening now. Without glancing at the clock on the wall, she knows it's close to midnight. Tsunade doesn't say anything for a while, Sakura notices while crossing her arms over her chest, and there's a silence in the halls too great to ignore. And then, she's lost, staring at nothing in particular—space and time and the nothingness of life.

Because what she says next leaves her breathless; because what she states makes her heart race and bump against her chest; because the sole sentence presented is firm and hopeful to her ears.

She's lost.

"Sasuke's artificial arm is finished."

She has to blink a few times; has to take a few breaths; has to lift her head up and flash a big smile. She's lost in the realisation.

"So, you know, you can tell him tomorrow and he can pass by here." Yes, Sakura muses, of course he will. "I know he doesn't like it, but I think he needs to try."

"It's amazing, thank you," with a sway of the woman's hand, Sakura is walking out the door and out of the hospital altogether—lost and found on the same night.

Sasuke better try.

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Whatever Tsunade had told her; whatever she was planning on doing the next day—wether she wanted to tell him about the prosthetic arm first thing in the morning, or go to work and tell him during her lunch break—was interrupted by the same dark eye that watched her the night before, and the rinnegan in the other, gazing at her at exactly midnight.

His position is the same. His face is shadowed by the darkness of the streets, but she can make out his eyes. Sakura straightens up a little and strides in slow, infinite steps toward him.

Sakura thinks, for a brief second, that maybe this would become a routine. Like the old one. Like the days after the war, coming out of a late shift would lead her to see Sasuke more often, as he always would walk her home, and exchange a few words here and there. Maybe, she thinks, he's starting to do the same now that he came back. Only that now, in contrast to the broken and dark and lost Sasuke, he's safe and handsome and better—better, because he's not lost and drowning in his own nightmares, but rather looking for a brighter sky in a stormy life. She has taught him to find the good things in life, by looking at little kids running around and playing, or visiting the graves of all those that he never could face after his world crumbled down into ashes—but that, she knows, is another story he doesn't want to replay in his mind, and she understands that someday he needed to say goodbye to the past—and she hopes he put them at work in his travels. The fact that he let her help him let go of the past little by little in the year after the war, and the fact that he, instead, turned around to greet the present, she will never forget.

Maybe he would make this a routine again.

She gives him a quick smile, just as he gives her a curt nod. It's easy to fall back into place with him. They walk for a while in silence—she doesn't mind the silence, though, because she knows he finds peace in it.

She feels better; she doesn't feel numbness or cold or chakra depleted. But she feels the chilly air around them and maybe that's why she doesn't refuse him when he hands her the thick cloak, just as he did the night before. She puts it around herself, and they keep walking until her apartment is no more than two houses away. "Sasuke-kun."

He looks at her.

She battles with herself wether to tell him about the arm right now or to wait. It's late and it's dark and it's chilly. And he looks tired.

So she sighs and shakes her head a little, giving him back his cloak. "Goodnight, Sasuke-kun."

It's after she goes up the few steps up the stairs on the side of the building; after she walks to her brown, old door; after she closes the door that she hears the ghost of his goodnight back against the walls of her home.

She stills.

When she manages to flung the door open, the whisper is gone, just like he is.

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A week later, Naruto throws a party for her on her birthday, and he invites everyone in the village.

Sasuke doesn't go to the party. But when she wakes up the next morning in a house full of presents and bottles and garbage, her eyes only catch one unwrapped gift on her room, on her nightstand.

_From Sasuke_, it says on a card. It's a silver bracelet with her name carved on it. She smiles.

Later that day, she thanks him with flushed cheeks and a big heart, and he nods.

She wears it for the next ten years.

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There were many nights when she would come out of the hospital in plain May and he would be waiting for her not too far away.

It did become a thing, after all.

He would hand her the warm cloak, she would smile, they would talk quietly, she would return the black garment with a grin, and he would leave to his own little apartment.

On the fifth night, though, Sasuke didn't hand her the cloak with hesitant hands and a turn of his face in the opposite direction. He put it around her shoulders, confidently, and wrapped it around her form, secured it with two bottoms in the front, and lifted up the corner of his mouth when he finished. Like what he saw pleased him to no end.

She was already frozen and almost gaping; the feel of his warm fingers still burning her skin. Slowly, she looked up to stare at the (boy) man less than two feet away from her form. He was still with the same appreciative, indescribable expression.

She smiled, blinking a few times, ready to give him her surely shaky thanks. But then, as soon as her mouth moved a centimetre, he caught it like a frog to a fly. His eyes moved to her lips, back to her eyes, and away. His Adam's apple was giving her a headache—she felt dry, her breath coming out in small puffs, making vapour in the cold atmosphere.

He moved away and they kept on walking.

Sakura had the cloak around her, made of fine, black leather and months of hard work, obviously for warmth purposes. For a moment, in the middle of the cold night, Sakura thought that she could very well inch closer to him, and feel like being in the middle of a hot, light blue flame—the warmest of them all. His body warmth would give her more confort than the simple clothes she carried.

At this, though, she inched farther apart, embarrassed. She wanted to set her goals clear; she wanted to be serious in her career; she wanted to stop for a minute these feelings that made her feel butterflies and gave her heartaches, as she told herself the day before. She really wanted to. But, as she thought about it more and more, she knew she had already achieved a serious career and set her goals clear. As for the obnoxious and amazing feelings: she couldn't stop them anymore. She never has, for that matter. There were there as they always have been; they were there as he always has known.

She could be in love with someone and wait for them to reciprocate for _so_ much, she thought. Too many years. Perhaps, all she craved was his touch at this point, just his fingers along her skin. But she just kept walking at a fair distance, and he didn't question anything, as usual.

Sasuke, even as she protested while blushing like a teenage girl, muttering curses and glaring at the cause of her dirty mind, still put the cape around her the next night.


	4. The Answers

**A/N:** A new chapter, yay! I tried not making it boring, whatever, sometimes while I write I have to tell myself that Sasuke and Sakura need more development before a big scene but ghhhh. OTP MAKES ME IMPATIENT. (Btw has anyone seen the new chapter for Naruto Gaiden? My baby Sakura is so cool!) I made this chapter longer than the last one, huhu. Enjoy!

**P.S:** Try not to take the medical topics and information seriously. Most of it I get from my psychology class. I only use it for the story plot.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 4**

_**\- The Answers -**_

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Locking the door with a sigh and a key too old to be used in such—albeit early—contemporary times, she steps away and grabs the pouch on her hip a little bit tighter; the medical and shinobi gear clinking against one another in the small space of the black cotton. She stills, looking down at the small, delicate, silver accessory on frail but strong wrist, scratching smoothly at her skin and hurting incessantly with requests.

It thuds with a silent whisper on the small of her palm when she takes it off her wrist, staring at her name elegantly carved—by expert, unwavering hands that have probably carved more names than she can count—and tracing over the cursive letters with her other thumb.

And maybe she has to.

No, she doesn't have to, she thinks. But maybe, perhaps, it wouldn't hurt if she did. Maybe, perhaps, this would mean something. This would be her taking a step.

Sakura walks down the steps of the side-stairs of her apartment. She keeps walking down the streets, with no rush or quickness, just her and the morning light rays, until she reaches an unfamiliar flat on the other side of Konoha. She draws in a breath; draws it out slower. Standing outside of the small apartment Kakashi had let Sasuke rent for a while, she thinks that this may not be the wisest of ideas.

After all, the sun had just started to rise when she went out of her house. What if he was asleep? What if he gets pissed that someone woke him up so early? What if he isn't even home? What _if_?

She hadn't told Naruto; hadn't told Ino or Hinata, or Sai, if anything. The plain thought of going all the way across Konoha to simply tell _him_ didn't appease her in the slightest—it's not like they were together. It made her shake her head and lean a hand against the railing of the hallway on the second floor, right in front of the brown, wooden door.

She stares down at the empty streets, watching as the stray cats try to look for food in the garbage cans. A leaf disentangles from its branch and falls gracefully on the ground beneath her feet, out of her sight.

Alright, she was going to do this. She already came this far. She was _not_ backing away.

What time is it, anyway?

Turning around to face the door, she approaches with careful, short steps.

She knocks once, twice, thrice.

Her palms are sweaty with perspiration, her eyes weary from anticipation, her beating heart is ready to jump out of her ribcage, and her breathing is deep and hard against the mild temperatures. When she hears footsteps from inside, though, everything dissipates and the only thing that stays is her heart jumping in her chest.

He opens the door. It's a slow movement to her eyes, but it ends all too soon.

She looks at him and he looks at her. And he's dressed in casual clothes—black trousers and a black, medium-sleeved shirt—with his hair a pretty mess, his stance tall.

He doesn't speak. She has to break the silence after staring for a half minute without saying anything. "Hello, Sasuke-kun."

Still, nothing comes out of his thin lips. He keeps staring at her, maybe processing her presence, most likely not caring at all.

"Excuse me for waking you up so early, but I was told about an hour ago," she says, almost berating herself for the choice of words. "You didn't," he but almost whispers, tone raspy from probably the first time voicing something that day. Sakura's mouth opens to form a small 'o,' and then closes again to swallow. Her mouth is dry all of a sudden.

His eyes land, as if by cue, on her straps, her holster, the kunai secured on her hip. "Is it dangerous?" He mutters, a barely audible sound with the chirping of birds a tree away. As if he's talking to his shoulder and not her. As if he's thinking aloud to the breeze around them. She nods, briefly musing about the right usage of words, this time.

"It's fairly easy, I should be here by monday," she says, looking away from his piercing eyes. He, for a moment, opens his mouth to say something, stubborn lines creasing his brow—his right arm flexes on the door and relaxes in less than a second, and she notices it altogether—but then he closes it, and no sound comes out.

Three days until monday.

She politely smiles; he doesn't move a single muscle.

So maybe this isn't so wise after all.

She turns to leave with yet another sigh, quickly replaced by a small gasp at the feel of something weighing her down; a firm hand on her forearm. Big, calloused fingers encircling her skin. A warm, soft pressure just below her right, naked shoulder, sending goosebumps along her body. She feels the once warm temperature rise to a scorching hot in the shadow of the roof on his doorstep.

He immediately withdraws it, as if the mere touch burnt, whispering a dry "sorry," too low even for her trained ears. Sakura watches as he leans his arm against his hip, hanging limply from his side; knuckles white with the exertion and force his fingers are putting in closing into a fist.

"You'll be fine," he states, the slight trace of a morning's husky voice melting in the air. She smiles, "yeah."

Something clinks against her kunai.

His eyes slowly drop. Her eyes follow his and they land on her wrist. Her bracelet. He looks at her, black pools of past years in the dark, and she blushes, quickly excusing herself with the pretext of being late to her mission.

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The mission develops and terminates in three days, just as she had expected—just as she had told him. She returns to Konoha, walks past the giant doors, and smiles at the civilians who greet her during the young afternoon. She jumps buildings and enters the hospital, checking in and walking up the stairs to the second floor.

It was easy. Just the run to another town, a small village she didn't know existed, north of the fire country. Just the taking of herbs, and the questions she had to ask to the villagers about them, knowledgeable as they were. Not so many people habited the area—an approximation of fifty civilians, maximum, and even fewer shinobi.

"Sakura?" Sakura turns around in the hallway, "Shizune?" Shizune clutches the clipboard closer to her chest, taking in Sakura's appearance. She knows she just returned from the mission, Sakura notices. "Have you found anything?" She asks. Sakura nods, motioning to the vials and tubes hanging from her hips. Shizune nods back, "Tsunade-sama is waiting for you," she smiles and leaves.

Shizune knew her well enough, Sakura thinks, if not the same, then close to how Tsunade knows her. And, reminiscing, she has known Tsunade for more than five years already. Although, after the Fourth Shinobi War, they barely see each other anyway, nowadays, working in different wards. She sees Tsunade more often.

Sakura knocks on Tsunade's door.

"Come in," she hears the female say behind the door.

She opens it with a click, enters, and closes it behind her.

"Sakura," she sighs, smiling a little, "always so punctual."

Sakura shifts on her feet, taking out the small bags containing different herbs. She places them on the desk, putting beside them the white paper of her impeccable report. Tsunade glances at everything, not really interested, but more so on Sakura herself, "thank you," she sighs again, "you're dismissed."

Before leaving, she laces her fingers together, pondering about something, and then places her hands on her hips. "Tsunade-sama," she voices, "was it really important?"

"Huh?" Tsunade voices, looking at her with scrutinity, "we were running out of herbs," she finally answers, after giving the question a few turns and twists inside her head. She promptly discards the issue and takes the herbs, locking them in the safety of her desk drawer—a small, long, metal-like compartment.

"I checked the shelves before leaving, three days ago, and they were stacked with them; we had plenty of herbs." At this, Tsunade refrains from speaking, and chooses to keep quiet, still looking at Sakura.

"I mean, I have fifty ANBU, in almost critical condition, to care for, and you send me on a mission when I was about to find the answers i needed."

Tsunade sighs, standing up slowly and looking at her in the eye.

"The answers?" Tsunade ponders out loud. "What were you going to do, regarding your patients, if I may know, before I sent you on this mission?" Sakura looks at the floor, attempting to be thinking about her previous plans, "I was going to run tests," she answers.

Tsunade shakes her head and leans against the desk's border; a sharp line of steel under a lifetime of memories and years lived. The resilience of gravity making her lean all of her central weight on the surface. They stay in silence. Before the blonde speaks, that is.

"Sakura, I sent you on that mission with hopes of you finding those answers," she says.

Sakura's eyes widen a centimetre. Tsunade goes on.

"Those ANBU have been getting sicker by the hour for almost two months already. If you didn't find anything..." Tsunade circles around the desk to one of the windows, looking outside, "we're trying everything we can," she breathes against the glass.

"I am trying," Sakura quietly protests, not letting her emotions get the worst out of her. She _was_ trying. She had been trying ever since they entered the hospital.

"I know you are," Tsunade responds as calm as her.

Sakura knows that she hadn't found any herb to cure the ANBU, because the problem was not in the injuries themselves—those healed a month ago.

Sakura stares at the back of the blonde, biting her lower lip and glancing at her feet in deep thought. She doesn't understand. She wants to, but reading and looking for answers wasn't helping, at all. She has to find other options. She has to cure them. ANBU in such copious amounts can't be given up on—they're too important to the village, and Kakashi needed them. There were still battles going out outside of Konoha's perimeter, as far or close as they can get to the border. The war is over, but the casualties still happen, in spite of the calming sense of peacefulness in the village.

"You mustn't let them die." As soon as she says that, the pink-haired ninja excuses herself, and leaves.

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She doesn't think about it too much while she's walking. She doesn't think about it at all, actually, too engrossed in her thoughts, musing about the possible paths to diagnosis and treatment. She doesn't permit any other personal thoughts enter the invisible barrier her mind has created. It's crucial that she finds a cure; it's important that she takes care and supervises the children in her clinic, on the other side of the hospital; it's important that she fills papers and reports, the ones that lay resting on her office desk everyday. With so many things in her mind, she doesn't notice until she's stepping on the wood of her apartment.

It's when she's in her apartment, drinking a cup of milk and letting the air of the fan on top of her head sway her pink tendrils, that she takes notice. She thinks about it and she sees and touches the barrier, so thick and solid—she disperses it just as fast as she sees it in front of her, surrounding her. And she immerses herself in a moment of anxiousness and doubt, with thoughts that make her cringe in the light of the moon. And then she dismisses it with a shake of her head—an easy way to discard and forget. And she goes to sleep, still ignoring the subject that plagues her mind, the subject that leaves her confused. And dreams of blank pages never to be filled, a stupid, unconscious worry pestering her night.

The first absence of a man with clothes as dark as his soul—maybe not anymore, she thinks, after all, he had changed. The absence of Sasuke: that night as she had strolled around the neighbourhood.

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Sakura wakes up the next morning and finds herself at the hospital no less than twenty minutes after rising from the bed. She enters the double doors of the emergency ward and walks until she's in front of the biggest room—the room with ANBU struggling to survive.

It's early in the morning; the sky still dark and the sun still hidden. But she can't waste any more time.

They are resting. As they sense her presence, some of them open their eyes and look at her. Most of them keep sleeping. She just needs a few to answer her questions and react to her tests, however, and doesn't bother waking the rest up.

She approaches two of them, laying on a bed, not moving a muscle, and says that she's just running some tests. They don't respond. So she takes a good look at their bodies, sees they don't have any injuries, and writes it down on her clipboard. The next thing she does is touch a leg, applying a firm pressure. But they don't speak. The only reaction she can get is a flinch.

"Let me see your eyes," she whispers to one of them. He looks at her and then focuses his sight on the wall, a few meters away from him. Healthy, she concludes. Sending a verdant, soothing chakra to her hands, she hovers over his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Healthy. Constant.

When checking his ears, they're healthy too. And the same goes to tongue, throat, and reflexes—the flinches. But they still are unable to move.

"Who attacked you, that day in the forest, to cause something like this?" She inquires, but receives no answer. So they can't talk either. Can't talk, can't move. Voluntary movements, she keeps repeating to herself.

Then, she leaves the room and calls for the neurosurgeon.

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"Sit, please," he says as he sips on a cup of coffee and looks over some papers. She sits.

Taking out a folder, resting his mug on the desk, he opens it. It's a picture of the brain. With colours and on the paper you would find at the libraries, it almost looks like a children's drawing, weren't it not for the complicated designs and annotations. "This," he shows her, pointing at a lower part of the brain on the drawing, "is the cerebellum. It sends signals to your muscles to move, and it's responsible for balance and coordination," he explains.

"Voluntary movements," she looks at him, and he nods. "Yes, it controls voluntary movements too," he agrees with her, snapping his tongue while trying to think what to say next.

She looks at the cerebellum on the picture. It's small, on the back, and it looks like a tiny brain itself, attached to the bigger one.

"A damaged cerebellum only makes people's movements seem slow or too fast, maybe trembling or walking like a drunk person," he continues, "but the ANBU, as you explained to me this morning, are paralysed." Sakura murmurs a "no," seeing where this was going, and she quickly explains, "they just can't move very well."

"Right. In this case, the wisest hypothesis is that they received a severe head injury, which damaged the cerebellum, and now they can barely move."

Sakura nods, frowning slightly over the new picture he takes out. She notices it's not a picture, but a scan of an actual brain. "These are the results of one of your patients," he says, showing the picture to her and letting her take a hold of it, studying it.

Sakura looks for the cerebellum, and almost gasps. "There's barely any left," she scans her eyes over it a hundred times. "No, but the damage is not as severe as you think."

Sakura looks up at him, at the doctor—who she's seen in the hallways a bunch of times and talked to him at meetings. "What do you mean?"

"It can be fixed." Sakura's eyes widen. "How?"

"With chakra; healing chakra. Mend the cells and the tissue. Have you ever healed something like this?"

Sakura shakes her head, "I have read about it countless of times, though."

He nods. She bites her lower lip, "how many months of treatment?"

Resting his head on the back on the chair, he scratches at his shoulder, and finally answers. "It can take up to a year, but with you as the doctor treating them, I'm sure it takes less," Sakura, against her better judgement, blushes a little at the compliment, and looks at the scan again.

"Thank you, Masaru-san," she stands up and he opens the door for her.

"Sakura-san," she hears him after stepping out of the office. She looks back at him. "Good luck."

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It's fairly easy in the beginning. She wakes up, eats breakfast, and goes to work at the hospital. She treats them with chakra—each and every one of them—focusing on that tiny part of the brain, hovering over their skull; the back of the skull.

She goes home at around nine—not too late but not too early, after finishing the papers on her desk, of course. And the only reason she leaves the hospital at that time is because Tsunade, after listening to her final findings of the remedy, had ordered her to get home no later than nine. She needs the rest. Healing fifty men is fairly easy, only if she gets the adequate rest the night before.

It's only after a week of the treatment that she sees one of the ANBU moving his fingers, clenching his hand into weak fists. It's _something_ to Sakura—as small, little, as it is—so she, without Tsunade knowing, stays until eleven at night.

Not too late. Not too early.

And she thinks of Sasuke every night as she's walking home, alone and less cold during plain May.


	5. The Hug

**A/N: **Well there we go, more fluff for you! xD This one is more or less the same length as chapter 4, and it took me one month, and I apologise. I alternate between this fanfic and _Parting Arrival_, so after this update I write a chapter for the other fanfic, and then this one again. That's why I take so long :P Here we have more tension, enjoy!

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 5**

**_\- The Hug -_**

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The first day of June, ANBU start walking—taking small steps in the room. Everyone could move their arms, and they could talk with small words in short sentences. In less than a month, impressively enough, Sakura has almost finished healing them completely.

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Sweat is bedding down her forehead in copious amounts, but she doesn't let it deter her arduous task in the least. Her hands glow in the room and, before she knows it, it's already night. All that illuminates the ample room is a lamp in the corner and her healing chakra. But she can't stop; she mustn't stop at all. Since dawn she's been healing—mending cells and tissue, repairing what's been damaged—the men, only stopping to sip from her already cold coffee. It doesn't help that it's summer and the hospital provides little coldness and she's in need of a cold bath—oh how she wants to submerge in freezing water at the moment. It is, she reassures herself, the last patient she's going to heal for the day, and she's going to do a damn good job at it, as has she for the remaining forty nine.

She's almost done; she can feel it under her fingertips. The rush she momentarily feels through her body at the realisation that she's almost _done_—after hours and days and months or researching and weeks of healing—is too much and she puts more emphasis in the task at hand because once she goes home to rest, she'll really rest for once. She'll close her eyes in bed and fall asleep immediately and forget about taking coffee for the rest of the year—it's unhealthy, in big amounts, she read somewhere.

She tries to end it fast. Just because this is the last patient she needs to heal—all the other ANBU can talk and move about already.

She sighs in anticipation. Just a few more minutes, she thinks, will do.

A tired voice from her left makes her concentration falter without her wanting it to. "Sakura-san," she resumes the task, concentrating on the man's brain, "you must be exhausted. Please, go home."

"I can't," she moves her hands away from the slumbering patient, finishing at last, almost sighing in her little victory, and taking her sweaty gloves off her hands for the first time that day, unceremoniously throwing them in the garbage. "Not yet," she looks at him, seated on his bed and looking at her with slight worry.

She can't leave the hospital yet; she needs to go to her office and write a report, explaining all the processes and the things needed to be done and the rehabilitation altogether. And then, when that's done, she'll go home.

Sakura grabs her papers and her folder, preparing to leave the room. But not without leaving a last comment. "You're fully healed. All of you. You'll leave the hospital in a week and take as few missions as you can for the rest of the year, then you will continue like before. Full missions and all." She takes a moment to turn around and look at him.

A small smile is placed on his lips for a moment, and then he lays back down before he can hear the soft click of the door closing.

"Goodnight, Sakura-san."

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"Well, this calls for a celebration!" Tsunade exclaims, throwing the successful, neat report on her messy desk, and smiling at Sakura with a bottle of sake already in her hand.

"Tsunade-sama, I'm quite tired," is all she can say as she sits on the chair opposite from the desk. "And who wouldn't be? It's already midnight and you've been in that room for hours." Tsunade pours sake for herself, though, and starts drinking it. "You think I'm dumb, Sakura? I know quite well you've been overworking yourself."

She doesn't deny any if it.

After the first few sips, Sakura decides she needs to leave, or else she will force her to drink with her.

"I think I'm going to head home," sighing, Sakura stands up without even touching her own lithe glass of sake. It's too late and she's not up to drink and get wasted.

"Go on, you can leave. And for such impeccable work, you have the week off." Tsunade gulps her second cup down. "But we have to celebrate one of these days, damn it!" She sets the cup on the desk and smiles. It's one of those simple, unique smiles that she gives Sakura, rarely, and she locks it in her memories with dear sentiment.

Sakura has the urge to remind her that she's not her boss anymore, but the words never come out and she nods anyway.

"I kind of wish that the Uchiha boy was here." Tsunade has a knowing smirk in her eyes. Sakura muses. "Before, you would even leave early." And when she's pouring the fourth cup, she feels it. She_ feels_ him outside of Konoha. And then she feels him move so fast—too fast—that he's a few buildings away from the hospital. And she forgets how to _breathe_.

She's sure that the blonde can feel Sasuke's presence near, too, so she walks to the door without further ado. "Thank you," Tsunade waves a hand and dismisses her, like in the old times, when she was fifteen and still an apprentice, "I'll try to stay away from the hospital for a week."

And with a dry and sleepy laugh, she leaves the building in perspiration and tiredness. And something akin to excitement.

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She follows Sasuke's trail through the streets, and realises that he's really close to her house. Which was not too far from the hospital anyway. With that in mind, she quickens her pace and dismisses the blurry images ahead of her vision. The street is dark and her heels are killing her—they're not even high. So, stopping for a moment, she takes her shoes off and holds them in her hand. The feeling of her naked feet touching the only cold place in the street—the ground—is like paradise to her body, and she has to close her eyes amidst the nausea that suddenly pulls her out of her reverie.

There's the itch. The constant itch pulling at her conscious that Sasuke can leave and return whenever he pleases. The itch—the worry—that she might not know when _that_ is, until she actually sees him come back. He has been gone for a month, at least, this time. The itching does never stop. She takes another deep breath and makes a rather messy, high ponytail on her head.

She feels him getting closer and closer, and she has the urge to smile but she holds it back, feeling a sense of vertigo all of a sudden. It's too much, she thinks. The nausea; vertigo; chakra depletion; sweaty clothes; she can't breathe, she can't; it _itches_ and it doesn't and she wants to run to him. To tell him to never leave her again; to promise her he'll stay by her side. To not feel him disappear every time she opens her eyes.

And then, as she takes the next step, a puff of breath leaves her and she's tumbling to the ground before she can process why her body is falling so rapidly and why her eyes are closing.

She never hits the ground. But she hits something hard and firm, all the same. Soft, warm. She opens her eyes a minute later to find that she's pressed to a chest, and not the unbearable concrete of the ground. Her face is scrunched into someone's warmth; a body melding and melting her own exhausted form.

Sakura gasps. She tries to get away, to see his face—into mild shock, all she can do is gasp, wide eyed, at her beloved's presence—but Sasuke's hand grips her arm even more. She finally lifts her head, looks at him.

His eyes are gazing down at her own, big, disoriented ones, before he slightly shifts on his feet and looks away. She blinks, confusion still present.

After a few seconds, he speaks, loud and clear in the dead of the night. "Can you walk?"

After another few seconds of staring at each other, as cliché as that may sound, she nods a little.

"I can walk."

She can't walk. Her skin itches again when his hand moves to withdraw and she wants to open her mouth to say that she can barely feel anything in this insuperable heat; she wants him to hold her and never let go; she can't walk because she's _burning_.

And with that, he lets go of her arm and watches as she stumbles on her feet once more, a small gasp leaving her angry pink lips. She's sweating, he notices, and her skin is a ghostly, sick pale. He grabs her arm again before she hurts herself, and curses under his breath.

Before she can bat an eyelash, her feet are dangling in the air, and she's being lifted, thrown over his shoulder—but not really, because her head is in the crook of his neck, and her arms are around it like a scared animal, shoes hanging from his back by one of her hands. It's not morally acceptable, how she barely sees him and he expertly hides and appears whenever he decides it's time. It's insane how her heart beats so fast against his collarbone, and how she barely notices the big hand against her back.

She shifts a little in his arm, hanging on to him more than before, and her feet fidget with each other and tangle up in a mess because she feels she'll fall again in any second.

They're not far from her house. He's walking in the dark parts of the street, and there's no one to look at them, so she wraps her legs around his hips, covered by a cloak—that cloak was going to be the death of her, it was summer and he still wore it, did he have a whole wardrobe full of them?

She, meekly, feels him tense up before relaxing again, exhaling a long sigh against her shoulder. She, herself, relaxes too, after waiting for a probable rejection that never happens.

It's so comfortable that she feels herself drift away in his embrace. She even loosens up the tight hold of her arms around his neck.

The constricting knot in her stomach disentangles little by little, bouncing up and down as he walks—like an elegant waltz, as if she doesn't weight more than a flower does, as if he's a dancer and she's his weightless partner. Her temperature cools down a bit, feeling the small breeze against her half-exposed face. She can smell his scent and sigh contently at the absence of a cologne, as usual, but at the smell of a pure scent full of pinewood and fire and masculinity.

Maybe the day had been too long, or her chakra was near gone, or he gave her a safe haven, or she was so sleepy that she didn't really care to behave herself like the lady she was supposed to be. But she just lets her head fall against his shoulder. And with a content intake of breath, she falls asleep right there, two streets away from her house.

Sasuke never says anything.

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She wakes up on her bed, at noon. Her shoes are neatly placed on the floor next to the bed, and her hair is loose from her ponytail, which is now on her bedside table.

She wakes up on her bed, with a blush, still in need of a cold shower, and deciding that thinking about Sasuke making her comfortable enough to sleep last night in her bed is too cute to handle. She tries to calm her heart down and gets out of bed.

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Her chakra is vibrant and radiating strongly, contrasting and battling against the sun's own shining aura. A good rest is all she needed. She sits on her old couch while a movie is being played on the tv in front of her, and she's eating popcorn at three in the afternoon like never before, but all she can think about is the previous night.

Sasuke picked her up; lifted her up like she was a feather and then carried her against him, even though she was hanging onto him for dear life, until he arrived at her house. And then, she doesn't even know how, entered without forcing the entry and left her on the bed. He took her ponytail off, as well as her shoes. He tucked her under the sheets and left and she can't stop blushing whenever she imagines what he would look like, doing all of that without waking her up. Maybe she was too tired.

It's better if she just doesn't think about it.

And yet, the thought still crosses her mind: she hadn't seen him in _weeks_. He had left. He had left to other villages in his travels. For weeks, while she was healing and working nonstop. Maybe he had come back last night.

She eats another popcorn.

It's best if she buries this in her head, the memories from last night. It's best if she goes on with her life, while knowing a little secret from him, with her feelings, still carrying with her the nicest feeling of all. Being pressed to him in such intimate way. Goosebumps run along her spine.

She suddenly wants to stand up and go to his apartment, and just hug him to her body. He wouldn't really mind, would he? She can't stop thinking about the way he made her feel. She could hug him and stay like that until white hair grows instead of pink tendrils and wrinkles form on her face.

But she can't, and so she stays watching tv on a sunday evening, eating popcorn and thinking about a lifetime of love.

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The next day, when she's cooking dinner, there's a knock on her door. She answers after wiping her hands on the floral apron she's wearing.

For a moment, she's almost sure that it's Sasuke—that _Sasuke_ is here and behind the door and she can't help but bite her lip because, what if? But it's even better, she finds.

It's her boys.

Naruto is waving with typical enthusiasm and Sasuke is brooding with palpable annoyingness and Sakura is so happy she's going to burst into tears. It had been so many days—too many days—since they ate as Team Seven. The legendary team.

That day, instead of one plate, she sets up three on the table. And there aren't any leftovers by the end of it.

There are memories and stupid missions brought up. There are smiles and giggles, smacks and some food thrown across the table. Sasuke and Naruto, obviously, fight over small things and it's so ridiculously familiar that Sakura doesn't know wether to laugh or to cry until her eyes grow dry. She decides for neither.

When they are done eating—and done talking—Naruto gets up, and smiles at her from across the table. "Sakura-chan," he says, "I can't believe we're here. As Team Seven again." He throws a laugh over his shoulder and there's a smile, much, much brighter than in the corners of his lips, in his blue eyes. "Who would have thought, hm?"

And after a war and cries and so many deaths and so many born babies in the hospital, after a thousand tragedies, and so many years, she takes a look around. It's like when they were genin. Sasuke glares and Naruto bickers and Sakura laughs, unamused by their manners. Some things never change.

"We are." Sakura takes his hand, standing up, too, in an amiable way, before smiling and hugging him like they always do. "We're here."

She takes a glance at Sasuke when they let go, for the first time since they got here, and finds that he's already looking at her. They hold their gazes for seconds before Naruto brushes off the suddenly serious and deep moment, and proposes doing this again another time. That other time doesn't come until years later, she would find.

They help her with the dishes and stick around until it's really, really late and she tells Naruto to go home to his wife and son.

Naruto leaves first. He walks through the door and leaves it open for Sasuke, who walks through it too, before pausing to turn around to look at her. She's so close; he doesn't move away.

When she feels that he's going to say goodbye, she beats him to it with a smile. "I know you don't like these things," she remains silent for a moment, looking down at her feet, "and I know Naruto probably dragged you here without your consent," she's silent again. He frowns.

And then she looks at him, and he has to swallow his heart down.

"But thank you, for coming, it was nice," she finishes. He wants to agree, but he just stays there like a statue, looking at her as if he was looking at the ghost of his parents. He doesn't even know why she bothers telling him this.

She giggles a little, looking him over, from head to toe, and finding it in herself to bear a sparkle in her eyes. "I see you're dressed, it's the first time I see you without your cloak," and he is dressed, in a white vest and a dark, long sleeved shirt underneath, and black trousers with deep, comfy pockets. He is dressed, for once. It's too hot to walk around in that cloak, anyway, he thinks. "You look nice, Sasuke-kun," she whispers, closer to him, more than he imagined.

She puts her hands on his chest. His breath hitches.

He doesn't have time to think.

Sakura, despite her thoughts and her brain telling her to keep away, stands on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his cheek. It's innocent; she feels like a teenage girl once more. Then the moment is lost and she steps away and into her house. Sasuke's face haunts her through the night—pools of unknown ebony that shine like a moonlight on her doorstep, looking at her with an expression she never knows how to decipher, a surprised look she gets to see before it melts away into a cool reserve.

She smiles.

"Goodnight." She doesn't hear a goodnight back, but she doesn't need to.


	6. The Hurt

**A/N:** SAKURA IS SO CUTE AND SASUKE IS A LITTLE EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED PRICK, just lemme know if I get them right this chapter xD Oh and I think you should read again chapter 5, because there are some references here.

**P.S:** I just realised Idk when this story's gonna end, but whatever, I already know the ending so I'll just write toward it.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 6**

_**\- The Hurt -**_

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Without the hospital to keep her busy, Sakura finds that there are very few things to do in her spare time—one she hadn't had in years, so it is normal that she's clueless now, waking up to a day full of nothing to heal and mend.

Her hair is in tangles and her clothes are a mess—her sleeping clothes, just a plain white tank top and pink, cotton shorts that are already messy and scarce themselves, don't help. After brushing her teeth and washing her face—and other more intimate parts of her body—she heads to the kitchen. She stays staring at an empty fridge for too long. Her days at the hospital forced her to never go out to get necessities and rather stick to drinking coffee and eating mere sandwiches here and there. As a medic, she knows very well how ironic it is that she isn't taking care of herself. Her mother would throw a fit if she knew, she's sure of it.

She dresses up. A pink shirt and a black, skin tight skirt that ends above her knees.

On the third day of her week off, she decides to go grocery shopping. After waking up with nothing in mind to do for the day, this is something she looks forward to.

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"Good morning, Sakura-san," the old clerk asks, politely, as he hands her the bag full of vegetables with a smile. "How do you do?"

She smiles and gives him the money she owes him, a few coins from her purse. "I'm doing just fine, thank you," taking the rather heavy bag, he nods, wrinkles forming in the sides of his eyes and around his chopped, dry lips. "How are Missa and Ayame? I haven't seen them in years," she asks, and immediately he beams with excitement and the proud look he gives her almost melts her with happiness. "They have grown so much, if only I had pictures," he mumbles something under his breath at his forgetfulness and she waves a hand dismissively, not really wanting to waste more time. The sun is still high in the sky but it won't last for too long.

"It's okay, really. I can imagine how lovely and strong they are right now."

He resumes his beaming effortlessly; the bag weighs more in her hand.

"They sure are!" He laughs. "They still want to become ninjas, just like you, Sakura-san. They look up to you still."

Sakura nods in gratitude and they end the conversation in a few more words of pleasantries. The old man was a good friend of her parents, and so she's known him for almost a decade. She used to play with his grandchildren before the war; that was a long time ago, she wonders how they are.

She stops at the next stand, looking over the different fruits, exposed to the public with small bumps and scratches. When she looks up at the middle-aged woman behind the stand, she smiles with courtesy, but walks away at the almost rotten fruit.

She spends most of the day buying food. At five in the afternoon, without eating breakfast or lunch, she halts to a stop next to a worn-out, wooden stand. And looks down to the multiple bags in her hands. More than ten for sure.

Sighing, she exits the market and starts walking home.

The walk home is peaceful.

A few kids get in front of her and she has to angle her arms so that she doesn't hit them, said children apologising to her later and making her heart warm up with the unexpected act—she gives them a candy each that she had bought, and resumes her walking.

It's only ten streets away from home that she shrieks a little. "Sakura-san!" A face appears in front of hers and she has to swallow down the scream and the little jump. Recognition lets her keep her calm. "S-Satoshi-kun?" A tall man from the surgery branch at the hospital; she knows him enough to know he has a crush on her, for quite a long time now.

"Here, let me help you," he says as he leans to take some of her bags. She takes a step back before he can even touch the plastic. "T-that won't be necessary, thank you." Still taken aback, she doesn't expect the multitude surrounding her. Suddenly, she feels her gut constrict.

"Sakura-san!"

"Hello, Sakura-san, do you you need help?"

"I can help you too!"

"Sakura-san! Remember me?"

Yes, she remembers all of them, and she knows if they don't let her continue going home alone, they wouldn't hear the end of it. Her eye twitches a little, trying to smile—nervously—and turn down all of their requests the best way possible—without having to pummel them to the ground.

"Those bags look heavy, want me to carry them?"

Her jaw clenches. This is it.

As she locks eyes with each of them, ready to drop the bags to the floor and teach them she can carry them herself, a more bright and cheerful voice makes all of them walk away and disappear. She stares astounded.

"Sakura-san! How wonderful and full of youth you look today! Surrounded by men who seem captivated by your undying beauty!"

She can't help but laugh and let Lee walk her to her house, talking about trivial things and enjoying the first familiar face she sees since she woke up.

"Didn't know you were so popular," he tells her, walking.

"Me neither." And it's true. She didn't know she attracted so many young men and she had no idea how eager they were to court her. True, she had been told how beautiful she was a handful of times, and she knew that she was, maybe not beautiful, but a little pretty. Ino was the beautiful one; Hinata had an exotic beauty plus cuteness she only admired from afar; and Sakura, well, she was pretty, she could say.

She doesn't care that she just turned down 7 men and contradicted herself by walking beside another. But it's Lee. And she knows Lee. And he never really asks for her bags to carry, so she smiles even brighter when he tells her he needs to leave to run three hundred laps around Konoha before nighttime. She assures him that he could even go for a thousand and still not get to see the sun go down under the horizon, for which he blushes and nods.

He leaves, and she takes the steps of the stairs to her apartment.

Only to find the man that makes her knees go weak in less than a second, standing in front of her door.

He follows Lee with his eyes until he's out of sight, unbeknownst to Sakura, who smiles with a blush at him and opens the door.

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"Can you believe it? Seven men, and a few from the hospital, mind you, hovering all around me. Trying to get my bags full of food," she takes out a knife and starts moving it around in front of her face, adding to the effect of her tales. He narrows his eyes when the blade gets too close to her skin, but keeps seated a few meters away. He knows she's not stupid enough to cut herself, but he can't help it, really.

She narrates about how seven men tried to get her bags, and he doesn't really pay attention. It is no wonder to him why they would approach her to start with. The fact that Sakura is attractive is no mystery to him, he has known for a while.

"And then, as if the mere requests weren't enough, one of them dares to grab a bag from me!" She makes an indignant noise, taking out tomatoes from the bags on the counter and placing them next to the sink. "I was _this_ close to snap at them, so I took the bag he had taken from me and tried to reason with them," she stands facing him, moving the knife from side to side and not meeting his eyes.

He stands up.

"But then Lee shows up, and exclaims in a really loud voice that-"

Her lips stay open mid-sentence, staring up at him with wide eyes. The skin he holds trembles faintly. He steadies her hand and takes the knife from her, meeting no resistance form her side, dark eyes narrowing at her own, and the feeling of his skin on hers is so quick that she regrets forgetting it after a second.

"I-" He doesn't let her finish.

"I'll do it," he turns to the red fruit.

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"Thanks," she quietly voices, turning on the faucet and washing the fresh tomatoes. He doesn't say anything, instead continues cutting them into perfect slices, next to her, depositing them on a large plate. Sakura fights to not smile at his manners. Perfectly chopping tomatoes beside her in her house, alone, and with only one hand. He never fails to amuse her.

When she's done with that, she leaves them close to him so he can cut them too, and chooses to prepare dinner for two. Her hand raises to turn on the stove, and then pauses midair.

She looks at him from the corner of her eye. It's almost nine. He _is_ going to eat with her, is he not? She bites her lip, and frowns at the sudden thought. Perhaps he isn't. He appeared out of nowhere in front of her apartment, and started helping her cook. Was that not a sign that he indeed was going to stay?

The clock taps seconds away as she hesitates.

She firmly turns on the stove. She grabs the food she needs.

"Are you staying for dinner?" With her back facing him, she can't see his face. But she hears his hand abruptly stop its measured movements. She can't see how his eyes linger on her back for a moment, before he looks away and gazes at the countertop, directly below his head. But she hears his soft "hn," followed by the knife proceeding to cut through red, juicy flesh.

She sighs what she didn't know she had been holding—her breath.

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They eat in silence. Small sounds of utensils being used and food being eaten and the casual bird outside or person talking on the streets are the loudest noises in the dining area. But she doesn't mind. It's not everyday that Sakura eats dinner with the love of her life in her little apartment. Without Naruto to fill in the silence with exhasperation and laughter—from her part—she finds comfort in the tiny moment together.

She looks at him from time to time, unaware of his knowledge; mostly, though, he's the one looking at her—her eyes and the dimples that form when she catches his gaze and smiles, taking another spoonful of rice, and the way she tries to make her bun as tidy as possible, but small pink tendrils fall to contour her delicate face—unaware of his eyes on her. Her hair is growing, he realises as she tucks a stray behind her ear. It reaches a little past her shoulders.

They finish eating a little past ten. She washes the dishes and he rinses them, putting them aside to dry. The silence is interrupted by small talk; Sakura telling surgery stories and surprising him here and there by the simplicity in her complex statements; Sasuke only staring and adding his thoughts when he thinks it appropriate.

She laughs once at a comment he makes on her gruesome stories and he almost smiles at her delicate giggles. Almost.

When he's outside at her doorstep, and she's hugging herself in the warmth of her house, and they're two feet apart, she feels a sense of déjà-vu.

Only that this time, she doesn't know what to say to fill in the overgrowing silence. She feels that the little laughs on her side and his few remarks have been enough for one evening, and she doesn't want to destroy anything today. Only that _this_ time, it is not her who starts the conversation.

"You're letting it grow."

He watches as she swallows slowly, looking at him like she just saw a ghost. His impassive face reveals nothing.

She almost voices her confusion, but she doesn't need to. His hand reaches for her face, and she completely stills, then she watches as the hand passes by her and touches the back of her head.

She opens her eyes wide when her hair flows around her in a pink, pretty mess. When she thinks she's out of her stupor, he takes her hand, and she silently gasps at the feel of calloused fingers gracing her palm. Now, she can make everything out and every emotion is felt more intensely. She can feel his hand encircle hers in a gentleness she didn't have time to notice before in the kitchen. He deposits her hair clip there.

He swiftly lets go of her hand and steps away.

She takes a moment, wets her lips, and slightly tilts her head up to look at him. He has this sparkle in his eye. His left eye shines with the rinnegan.

"Sasuke-kun," she breathes out, the skirt she's wearing even tighter than before. Her wild hair stays flowing around her and she doesn't bother fixing it. Not when Sasuke is looking at her like this. She has the sudden urge to close the door behind them and kiss him.

"Your hair," she snaps back like a train wreck to the sound of his voice. Her hair?

He puts his hand in the pocket of his dark trousers. "It's longer."

It's like she's been hit by a giant brick. Her hair? It's longer, yes. She hasn't had time to cut it, really. And she hadn't even noticed until now, if she's being honest. She tightens her arms around herself. _He_ noticed, though.

And admiring his tall greatness from the small of her world, the short string tugging at the back of her mind at how beautiful he looks, at how hopeful she's been all these years, at how he only has to speak to make her shake in longing; only has to touch her to make her tremble in fervent, pure desire. She still feels butterflies whenever she sees him, and they're not going away anytime soon.

"It is, isn't it?" She croaks out, voice slightly quivering. She hopes he doesn't notice. "I haven't had much time to cut it."

She slowly crumbles in the inside of her house, looking at him and realising how much it hurts. How much it hurts being this close to him and not being able to _be_ with him. And she hates herself for a moment, because she's letting herself break in front of him and nothing makes sense. But it does. Her heart aches with pouring, crimson love and her eyes water for a moment before she blinks the tears away, heart constricting around her chest. It's the first time she's on the brink of crying like this in a year. It's like a kunai cutting through her soul. She has to avert her gaze from his expression. Is he worried? She bites her lip, not daring to think about it. "Sak-"

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She takes a step inside, and doesn't even bother smiling, her voice is breaking by itself and that's enough. "Thank you for coming today, Sasuke-kun." She starts closing the door, and the first tear drops. "Goodnight."

He notices everything. He notices her eyes averting his; he notices her arms stop embracing her middle to shake a little when she's closing the door; he notices the worry he feels and how much he wants to step in and stop the tears that are surely coming out of her eyes. He doesn't, though, and he doesn't know how to feel about that.

Walking to his apartment, he's never felt so confused before.

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Sakura stifles her sobs into her hand—the same hand he took moments ago. She slides to the floor, crying because she can be unconditionally giving her heart to someone for _so_ long.

It's just too much.

It's too much and he left when she was thirteen, in seek of thirst for power; and they almost stabbed each other when they were fifteen, just kids with nothing but dreams and revenge in mind. She still remembers as clear as the back of her hand the moment he appeared in the battlefield to help them destroy the most powerful and evil people in the shinobi world, seventeen and reunited. It's too much and he left two years ago; he came back five months ago and he left again with no leading actions and he came back a month ago once again with nothing to say and it just _kills_ her. At almost twenty, she breaks.

It kills her inside, the way he doesn't know any of it. But at the same time he knows, he knows she loves him. He knows she would give her life for him. (Anything—anything for him.) He knows it and he's been ignoring it for fifteen years and it kills her.

She slumps her head on the door behind her, a hand on the bracelet he gave her, and that's how she falls asleep.


	7. The Dream

**A/N:** Ew filler. At least it's short.

**Warning: **This chapter contains adult material, descriptive, because I'm the writer and I can write what I want xD. I changed the rating and if you don't want to keep reading because of this, don't. You have been warned.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 7**

_**\- The Dream -**_

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She visits her parents the next morning. They greet her with happy faces and her mother makes tea for both of them while her father hugs her and later sits in the living room to read the newspaper.

She sits on a chair in the dining area. Her mother boils water.

"Well, how's my princess been?" Sakura has the urge to roll her eyes, but she knows it's been a while since she saw her parents, so she just smiles and nods a little.

"I'm fine."

Her mother suddenly gives her a distrustful look, though it goes away and replaced by a smiling expression just as quickly. "Really? How's Ino?"

"She's okay, with Sai and all that," a cup of tea is placed on the table and she grabs it with thankful words. Her mother sits in front of her and sips on her own cup.

A few minutes pass by; the only sound heard is her father's newspaper rustling with the absurdly brusque turning of pages. He doesn't say a word, but rather listens and, sometimes, gazes at them through the corner of his eyes. She sees it.

"Are you managing fine at the hospital?"

Sakura stifles; subtly leaves her cup on the table. "You mean I can't?" There is no biting tone, she's asking out of raw curiosity.

Mebuki looks at her in the eye, serious and at the same time with a tint of warmth.

"Directing the hospital is a big responsibility, I just wanted to make sure it isn't a heavy weight on your shoulders."

Sakura interrupts her. "Co-directing the hospital, mum. I'm only managing a small part, as I told Tsunade-sama to take her time. She's retiring soon."

Her mother nods, and they finish their beverages.

She does not mention the fact that right now she has the week off. Who's to say the things they'll plan for the whole week in order to "have fun" with their daughter. Last time they did that, Sakura came home with a crab bite on her leg and a broken finger. Needless to say, she loves her parents, but she'd rather keep quiet about time off—_and_ keep her fingers intact.

She leaves as the sun is setting behind the trees, and they hug her like there's no tomorrow. She leaves as the night approaches, with a full stomach and a smile on her lips. She leaves, and she doesn't think of_ him_ until she's alone at night on her bed and his face is all she can imagine; formulate in her brain.

It's futile, the attempts, because at the end of the day she always remembers him.

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She doesn't get to sleep that night—she diligently refuses. She plants her warm feet on the floor of her room and takes off her clothes. Not even sparring a glance in the mirror, she puts on black shorts and a red shirt—one of her ninja outfits, one of the many. Adjusting the pouch on her hip, she leaves the apartment.

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She should've known; not in a million years would she guess it. She gazes up to the person she bumped into while running in the desolated streets, toward the training grounds.

Sasuke passively looks back at her for a moment before regarding her attire. He tilts his head slightly, scowling before the creases on his brow smooth out. "At this hour?"

Sakura has to shake her head a little in order to recollect herself. She looks down at her feet in embarrassment. She had bumped into the man! In the back of her mind she hears something he says—what was the question again?

"A mission," he elaborates, and she gapes at him, mind clicking with the missing pieces, "it's really late." His voice is low and slow, carried away with the barely-there wind. She opens her eyes wide, recognition stepping in. "Oh." She looks at herself and smiles at him a little under her blush.

"I couldn't sleep," he raises an eyebrow, "so I'm heading to the training grounds."

She bites her lip when he doesn't say anything—it gives her some time to think about why he had been walking around at this late hour, just like she had been. She breaks the silence, as usual.

"You couldn't sleep either?" The question is out of her before she can take anything back. He's still looking at her with the eyes of a killer; the eyes of a man that has suffered countless times; the eyes of a man who desperately needs to find himself. Maybe he's looking at her because of he previous night—maybe he _had_ noticed, after all, her strange behaviour, the sole tear escaping her eyes before she could close the door completely. She swallows down a shiver.

But if he noticed, at all, he never voices it. Instead, he regards her with a gentleness and a patience she craves to hear again.

"I like to take walks. It's calming," He almost whispers, against the top of her head from his height.

She smiles at him.

He doesn't avert his eyes.

"Well, I better get going," taking a step forward, she places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as a means to say goodnight. She leaves, jumping rooftops, before she can regret the touch. The look he gave her was too dark.

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She should've done this before, is all she can think about. The moon shines upon her sweaty form all the strength she musters; it's like a battery recharging.

She swirls around her personal axis, rotates and creates a perfect circle on the earth below her feet. Inhaling some of the oxygen she's been missing, Sakura punches the center of the circle, and everything trembles for a moment before the ground breaks beautifully. She has to jump in the air, but that just gives her a more perfect view of the destruction her tiny fist has caused.

Yes, she should have done this before. She should've resorted to this method from the beginning. The blood boils in her veins but it's not from anger, but from the adrenaline she feels. The power she emerges, alone in one of the training grounds—the only one she could find without a clearing in sight, only trees and rocks.

A simple touch on the ground again and she's back on her feet, light and energetic.

She doesn't dare think of Sasuke, but the memories still come to her anyway. She tries to tell herself that's not the reason why there is only one tree standing after only two hours of training. The field is wrecked, and Kakashi will kill her, yet she does not let that deter her from the surge of relief she feels in the end.

Sweat dribbles down her face in thick trails; the night air is warm against her skin in the midst of summer.

Dropping to the ground, she looks up—the cold grass against her sore back is just what she needs—and sees the stars in the sky.

She remembers how one night her team had to sleep on grass and how she looked up at the sky with her two boys by her side sleeping, a twelve year old fool she was. And now, a nineteen year old accomplished woman. Accomplished, she thinks, is not the exact word for what she is, because there are things in life she could never reach. His heart, for instance, is one of them.

She closes her eyes. It's futile, the attempts, because at the end of the day she always remembers him.

However, it is she who forgets him in the morning, and it is he who doesn't care. So she stays that way, blindly gazing up at the bright light of the stars, and remembering someone she can never recall.

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Sasuke stirs in his deep sleep, sweating profoundly. After numerous turns and changes in position, he finds no way of staying asleep any longer; to his dismay, he opens his eyes to stare at the empty space on his small bed. His breathing is slightly disturbed; his heart is erratic inside his chest. He stares, gazing with no purpose whatsoever to the dark space his white sheets make. Blinking, he sighs—and then he feels something settling in his stomach, and he doesn't know what exactly it is that makes him sit in bed and frown, but he doesn't think much of it. With the same feeling in the pit of his stomach, he gets up with a tiredness he's sure to feel throughout the remainder of the day—it's four in the morning. He feels alert, surprisingly. Noticing the perspiration on his skin, he gets rid of his shirt in a swift motion.

He walks across the short hallway leading to the kitchen and opens the fridge, hoping that the growing feeling stops once he eats something.

But after two cups of milk and an apple, he's still dreading the sensation. It's still there, annoying his insides. In his stomach, past his stomach, past his navel, right where his-

When he looks down, his heart almost drops. The blood in his body is directed south.

He quickly leaves the kitchen, hurriedly entering his bedroom and closing the door, eyes confused and frown deep. _No_. But it's there—it's_ really_ there, present and very noticeable. He swipes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, pacing around his room like a madman. He scowls, a memory passing by his eyes.

Then, unexpectedly, he hears her soft moans as if she was indeed there, in the back of his mind; he hears her whisper his name in the same needy voice from the dream that didn't let him sleep that makes him throb. Shivers run up his spine without his consent, and then he remembers the way she arched her back against his torso, and he can't help but twitch against his better judgement. He closes his eyes quickly, fist balled with anger at himself, before his dream can toy with him like it did before.

Releasing a breath, he opens his eyes.

The first thing he sees is the bed, amidst the darkness of the room.

He _didn't_ want to do it, but the hard bulge in his pants had another opinion. He didn't want to think about her, but the dream was still vivid in his head; he could almost feel the same way.

It's inevitable. He is only a man, after all. The quicker he gets rid of it, the better.

So he climbs onto the bed, in the far middle, and sits with his bare back against the cold of the wall. With a sigh, his hand moves past the waistband of his pants, and past a trail of dark hair to grip—his breath hitches at the tension in his muscles. Soon, he forgets the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Because after he tightens the grip on his dick, and gives a few strokes up and down, agonizingly slowly, the only thing that makes him choke back a groan is pink tendrils under his body and soft hands on his own skin.

He closes his eyes, hard, until he sees big green eyes looking back at him; until he enters her with a quick thrust, hearing a soft a gasp from her under him; until he moves so slow inside her that she's quick to whimper and mewl in pleasure, writhing her small curves on his bed; until it _almost_ feels real.

His hand moves faster. His teeth grit against each other with his jaw clenched tight. Nevertheless, he can't swallow a low moan from he back of his throat at how close he is to the edge. He should feel ashamed, yet the only thing he feels is the way his cock already lets out pre-cum, the way he gasps against her collarbone. God, and how good she feels behind his eyelids.

The only sound in the room is his harsh breathing.

The sounds in his dream are the only things he can focus on.

She moves her head closer to him in a desperate attempt to kiss him, hands on his nape to guide him down; he moves closer, while he quickens his pace inside of her, hand gripping the sheets next to her. And when her lips are too close to his own, he opens his eyes—head thrown back to the wall and body _shaking, _gasping at his release. His chest heaves up and down, his breath irregular. He doesn't look down to see the inevitable mess he has created inside his pants, but rather regulates his breathing pattern and feels the smallest of guilts in his chest—not because of what he has done, but because of who he chose to imagine in such way.

He almost believed it had happened; the orgasm he had, proof of this. And yet, he sighs in contemplation, deciding that he doesn't want to think about his actions, for he is a man and he needed to relief himself. And the little part of him that thinks it meant something—that he did this for an obvious reason—doesn't come close to his stubbornness.

The pleasure soon is gone and he stares blankly at the ceiling for quite some time.

He takes a shower five minutes later. And, although no one but him can ever know of the event, for some reason far beyond him, he doesn't leave the confines of his home for two days.


	8. The Mission

**A/N:** This story just flows on its own.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 8**

_**\- The Mission -**_

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Sakura stands after an hour and heads home, sleepy and sweaty. Flashes of warm touches and intense eyes cross across her line of vision and she sighs, stopping dead in her tracks when she realises that she's remembering Sasuke once again. Remembering moments she's spent with him, in particular. Memories.

She looks around the empty, narrow street, wrinkling her nose as the smell of dirty feet and cat food invade her nostrils; a stray cat jumps from a dumpster and walks gracefully across from where she stands. It's hot and humid and really dark and she wants nothing more than going to sleep. She shakes her head. It's been a long night and she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't tired to the core. Her muscles ached with the promise of a slight sore the next day and her knuckles were close to bleeding (even if she had her gloves on, which were pretty close to breaking).

With the feeling of exhaustion and tiredness, she heads home.

The remnants of the night's thoughts are dismissed and forgotten, tucked away until she's left with nothing.

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Sakura wakes to the sound of a knock on her door; it's not patient and it's not hushed. She feels her eyelids part open to glare at her bedroom door, which is partly open itself. She waits for the sound of the newcomer, but it doesn't arrive. And with that new information, she closes her eyes once more to rest her head on the comfy softness of her pillow.

She rubs her aching eyes with the back of her hands, groaning while her feet tangle further between the sheets—her aching feet, that is.

It's too early.

In the back of her mind she hears another knock, and it is then that she stifles another groan against the pillow. She _thinks_ she hears the knock, and so her brain finally wraps up around the thought of standing up to open the entrance door.

Her head lifts up toward the door of her room—eyes closed but mind slightly alert—waiting for another knock so that she at least has a reason to stand up, now that she can realise if someone is knocking. Perhaps, her mind tricked her before. She doesn't want to admit to herself that she doesn't want to wake up more than she already has, and she's really making up excuses to go to sleep once again.

After five seconds bereft of the sound, she lets her head fall once more onto her white, angelic pillow. She sniffs a content moment.

But her mind had not tricked her.

As she's drifting into the realms of sleep once more, a quiet cracking followed by a loud bang is heard clearly in her ears. Against her wishes, she completely wakes up. Sakura yelps, standing up without much balance from the sudden movement. Being a ninja (a skilled ninja, mind you), it's funny how she clumsily, almost trips over a few shoes on the floor. It would be—funny, that is—if there wasn't an intruder in her apartment and she wasn't panicking over how unprofessionally she was behaving.

She quickly looks for a robe or a shirt or a dress—_anything_, really—to cover herself.

But she doesn't need to, because in a second a pair of arms are embracing her tighter than objects to gravity. She stumbles a few steps back.

Before her senses can start screaming at her to fight, to grab the kunai and senbon she had hidden around her room, she recognises the squeals and the voice from the person that's hugging the life out of her body, and she gapes in astonishment.

"Pig!"

Ino inches away and forms the brightest smile toward Sakura. She's practically beaming, _radiating_, with excitement.

"Sakura, you won't believe it!"

Her blue eyes shine with happiness and all Sakura can think is that she needs to really, really, _really_ go to sleep.

She'd thought it was a threat in her house!

Ino is happy for inexplicable reasons, and Sakura is fuming with anger. So it is fitting when she starts yelling about her sudden appearance. She regrets nothing in the end.

"You can't just barge in like that!"

"And why not? I have to tell you something super important."

"You didn't have to force yourself in here! You basically broke my door handle, for sure. Now I have to pay for a new lock and new keys, and you know how that goes." With a glare, Sakura drills holes into Ino's soul. Ino doesn't really care.

"Listen, you're a doctor. So what if it's expensive? You have the money."

Sakura scoffs.

"I have other things to pay for, you pig. Plus, I was sleeping. Couldn't you wait another hour?"

The halls are quiet and the expression left on Sakura's face is one of frustration. Ino replies with a sheepish grin after ten seconds; Sakura drops her shoulders in aimed helplessness toward her best friend.

"No." And the glowing in her eyes still remains.

"Ino," her voice is scratchy and low, and what's left of her patience almost flies away, "it's _way_ too early."

Ino frowns, looks at the time on the clock hung on the wall of Sakura's room, and looks at her like she's crazy.

"Are you okay? It's late as hell; I didn't think you would be sleeping, by the way." She frowns even more when Sakura glares with seething hatred. "It's a little past noon, forehead."

Sakura's eyes widen considerably, she rubs the sleep away. "Really?" At her friend's nod, she sighs and crosses her arms against her tank top, not really caring that she's in her panties in front of Ino—her childhood friend, anyway.

Sakura looks at her, taking in her still excited posture. "Okay," she starts. "Whatever is it that I can't believe?"

"Guess!"

Sakura almost fumes.

"Just tell me, pig."

"Hey, you're the one with the big forehead here."

"Does it even matter?"

"Well, you're no fun if you don't even try!"

"I'm sleepy and you just don't come barging in someone's house like that, just because."

They glare.

"You little-"

"Can you tell me already?"

Her arms are extended at her sides in frustration, her eyes are wide with anger, and her sleep has been interrupted by her best friend; her hair is in tangles all around her face.

But nothing, absolutely _nothing_ prepares her for what she says next, for she is caught off-guard, she feels she's not balanced at all and she stumbles in her place before immediately falling rigid on her feet; questions aside, her stoic face turns into one of surprise in less than a second. It turns into one of happiness for one of her dearest friends in two, and she smiles at the same time Ino does. She suddenly feels so content for Sai, for Ino, for everything because the world is suddenly such a pretty thing.

"I'm pregnant."

Her eyes water.

They deserve it; they both deserve this so much and she can't even word anything at the moment, so she just smiles further and she bites her lip because she's tearing up unannounced.

"Come here," she manages to croak out.

Her arms embrace her friend in a tight hug, murmuring congratulations in her hair and they both laugh. They both tear up. They both are happy.

"I'm gonna be the aunt of your piglet." After a moment, amidst the hugging, Sakura whispers. "Or piglets."

Her friend gently—as gently as it can be for the blonde—smacks her in the back of the head, yet Sakura doesn't find it in herself to mind.

She tells her that she's six weeks in, and that she hasn't felt so happy in a long time, for which her friend is happy about.

Ino leaves thirty minutes later, while Sakura is in her bathroom getting ready for the day—the sleep she craved before now long forgotten.

Everything seems better; the smiles don't leave her face even after her friend is gone. But when Sakura steps in her living room, which is close to the entrance door—dressed and ready to go out—she freezes.

The entrance is dirty, with pieces of wood scattered on the floor from the exertion of the movement Ino had made. Her door is lying on the floor of her entrance like a normal occurrence. Sakura stares for a few minutes.

Ino practically _knocked down_ the door when she didn't answer the first time—she tries not to murder her because of the upcoming baby. She thought wrong when her mind told her that Ino had broken only the lock.

Because she lives in an apartment, she probably has to pay for the damage and tell the owner to replace the door.

The fact that she has to buy a new door makes her head hurt; she had almost forgotten when Ino declared her state.

From across the street, her neighbour stares as surprised and confused as her own face probably reflects—when she notices Sakura, though, the poor civilian walks faster along the street.

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The building owner tells her to buy one herself; he says that the contract she signed when she started living there stated that any harm made to the house would be paid by the inhabitant.

When Sakura was about to explode and pummel him to the ground, he showed her the contract. For a short, skinny old man, he was pretty calm at Sakura's wrath, as if this wasn't the first time someone talked to him this way.

And as she read the contract from front to back and around, she noticed tiny letters above her signature, and she frowned.

There it was.

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Sakura sighs for the umpteenth time. This is taking longer than she anticipated.

After accepting that she had to buy all the necessary things for the security of the house, she'd headed out to find the shops she needed to pay a visit to.

She'd first gone to the locksmith across the village to get a new lock and a new key, giving them a quick explanation and the measurements she needed, but they had told her it wouldn't be finished in at least a week. She'd thanked them, nevertheless, and she'd left to the only shop available in the village that could take care of her door next.

Now, the workers at the wood shop didn't have a door available, per se, because the last one had been bought an hour ago._ It had to be today_, she thinks.

"When will you have one available? These measures," she slides the little paper, with the precise measures, on the counter toward the head worker. He barely looks at it before he answers.

"Look, we rarely get these kinds of requests, and our agenda is pretty full lately, so we could be done in a month."

A month? Sakura bites her lip in indecision. Did she really have to sleep doorless for a month?

The idea doesn't please her at all. She'd have to be at home twenty-four seven and that would only mean missing work and missing a month of her life because she'd have to stand guard at her house in order to keep it safe. Figures, she bites her lip harder, looking down at the counter desk and looking back up into the man's eyes. She doesn't think she'll stand a month without work, vigilant in her apartment. She can't really risk someone sneaking in and robbing her of her valuable things, either. So she takes a deep breath and pleads.

"Is there anything I can do to get this done sooner?" She hates to ask this, but money (as Ino had said) wasn't really a big problem; she could manage. The fact was that she lived alone, and in two days she had to return to the hospital. Therefore, there would be no one to take care of her house while it was doorless and out in the open. She really couldn't afford anyone looking through her things while she was gone for hours and hours, maybe even the whole day.

An idea pops into her head.

A jutsu, she thinks, would do the trick. While she can't be in her house the whole day, she can stay for a bit in the morning and at night. The rest of the time would be spent at the hospital working or outside training; she muses, a jutsu cast on the house could keep her apartment safe and away from strangers. She knows a few of those, she remembres from the academy when she was younger, after reading books and books about protective jutsus for a final exam.

The employee sighs and looks at her for a long time; his face is old and tired and she can tell he's struggling between words.

Finally, though, his gaze turns in another direction "wait," and he disappears behind the door of a wall near the counter with no further explanations; she thinks it might belong to his boss. Sakura is hopeful, though, and waits.

Whatever spark he saw in her eyes leads him to come out of the room with another sigh and turn in her direction, walking toward her again and stopping behind the counter.

"We can get it done in two weeks, but that's as fast as it gets; there has been a fire in the east and they need us to fix the houses, so we're really busy." Then, he takes out some papers from a drawer and gives her a pen. "Deal?"

Sakura looks over the price, the small letters and the big ones, the exact day she's bound to come get the door, the things she's supposed to fill out and the spaces she needs to sign in. She smiles, nodding and signing her name at the bottom of the paper.

Two weeks, in any way that she looks at it, is better than a month.

She leaves the store with a lighter heart. Still, the idea that she has to be alert for two weeks while she sleeps doesn't make her happy in any sense of the word. Almost groaning, her feet keep walking down the street toward a place she knows will be crowded.

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The streets of Konoha are usually in motion. The only time the village can be considered dead is in the silence of the night; and even then, the casual party next door can make up for the silence in the whole village. Regardless of the time, Konoha is always beaming with colors and sounds.

So, by this observation, Sakura is not surprised at all when she has to stroll by the streets trying not to bump into everyone who's walking. It's a bit difficult, she finds, because everyone's in a rush at such time. At two in the afternoon, the streets are filled with people who want to buy food, and the restaurants are filled with much more people who are trying to eat lunch.

Sakura wants to do neither of these things, so she's fast when she has to cross the streets without stopping at stands or bars; she has to dodge a baby car that gets in her way, once, and she barely has time to apologize to the mother of the baby she almost tripped over. The day is busy, she can say. Nevertheless, she likes the village when it's in motion like this; people she doesn't know are so terribly busy that she allows herself to forget about her usually busy schedule.

She can see her destination not so far ahead, and so her resolve is stronger and her legs carry her faster through the streets.

The crowd of people—civilians _and_ shinobi—is left behind her as she rounds a corner. And then she's entering a tower she knows too well.

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"Kakashi-sensei." He regards her with a sparkle in his now black eyes, and smiles under his mask.

"Sakura."

She pushes her middle off the closed door, taking in his seemingly organised desk. There is nothing but at least three folders and a coffee mug, so she keeps walking toward the desk until she can see his legs; she bites back the urge to roll her eyes when she sees a big pile of papers on the floor, hidden from the naked eye, next to him. When she looks back at his eyes, his expression hasn't changed a bit.

She sighs.

"I see you haven't done your work, as usual," she sits on a chair in front of him, across from the desk. Running a hand through her hair, she looks down into her lap, deciding on what to say; she regrets coming here in the first place, but she needs the distraction.

He leans back into his chair and looks at her like a child being caught for not doing homework—which, in essence, is what he needs to do in his office, as Hokage: his homework. He raises his hands and opens his mouth to speak.

"I _am_ doing my work, Sakura. But, and hear me, I had to go out to help this lady with her cat because it got stuck on a branch and I, as the gentleman that I am," Sakura already has a vein in her forehead, "helped her. Turns out, I got here five minutes ago."

She raises an eyebrow in disbelieve. Would this man ever stop lying?

There's silence for a few seconds before she speaks.

"Really?" It's a dragged word, developed from her doubtful heart. "I was just walking around the village; weird, I didn't see you."

He barely bats an eyelash, but grins silently. She quietly waits.

"I mean, the tree was pretty far, you know."

No, she doesn't know. However, she clears her throat and refuses to either smack or laugh at her old sensei (even if both seem quite appealing).

"Sure, Kakashi-sensei. Now," she voices, slowly, testing the waters. Looking at him, she lets herself smile a little, for which he smiles back without a second thought. "I want to request a mission."

His eyes widen a bit, surprise written across his features. Then, he frowns and looks at her suspiciously, the smile leaving his face in an instant.

"I assume Tsunade is not letting you go to the hospital, hm?"

It's her eyes that widen now, for she did not expect him to realise it so quickly. She didn't go to him asking for missions every time she didn't have work, right?

"You always ask for missions when you're off for the day."

Damn. She fidgets in her seat.

"And here I was, thinking that my favorite student wanted to pay a visit to this old man," he chuckles and she snorts.

"Please, Kakashi-sensei?" She asks, a hopeful tone to the words. He opens a drawer and grabs a big folder, placing it on the desk. He opens it, proceeding to read the contents. He skips a few pages and starts reading again.

"It's only for a day or two, at most. I go back to work on Saturday." She keeps looking at the files from where she sits, desperately waiting.

A good mission, whether dangerous or mundane, is always good to keep her busy.

"There's nothing that takes so short, Sakura. Unless," he says, "you want to cut grass from an old lady's backyard."

"Of course not." Instead of feeling offended, she presses on. "Just give me something important."

He eyes her for a moment, and keeps looking through the papers.

She doesn't know how much time they stay like that, but she estimates it's about a rough eight minutes.

Finally, Kakashi stops on a page and takes it out of the folder. He hands it to her, and she scans through the details quickly.

"As you may already know, the Shinobi world has been at peace since the war. Nevertheless, several attacks have been noted in several villages over the past weeks. With the attacks, there are injured people." Sakura looks up at this, and frowns. "I was going to assign different medics for this mission, more of the low ranks, as it's not only one village in particular."

"Has anyone found the ones who attacked yet?" She asks, a knot in her throat from what she knew was going to happen. Kakashi shakes his head, sighing slowly. "It's strange as it is; the attacks are only on villages in the outskirts of the Fire Country. All countries are unable to find who did this, and it's been ten attacks in three weeks; this needs to be stopped immediately. We can not let these attacks escalate any further."

Sakura's eyes widen. Her mouth feels dry and her palms feel sweaty, because she knows he's not going to say it. As they look at each other, she understands him all the same.

No one has found out who attacked the villages, and no one has been able to catch the perpetrator/s. And since there is only one person in the Shinobi world to find who committed such acts, Sakura feels the need to swallow. _Sasuke, _yet again, soon, to be sent on a mission to protect the world.

This knowledge is not voiced in the grand office, but she understands all the same. She also doesn't touch upon the matter, rather lets the topic drift back into her mission.

"In the meantime, there are casualties that need to be dealt with. Sakura, you'd have to go to Amegakure, as it is the village with the most injured people. It's also the village with the most number of attacks, by logic. This is a B-ranked mission." Leaning toward her from across the table, his voice turns into a serious one, one that reflects her own face. "It can easily become A-ranked, though."

"Sensei, this could take much more than just two days."

"Tsunade will understand this is an important mission."

Sakura gazes down at the file with all the information, and bites her lip.

On one side, being away from Konoha can grant her the bit of air she's been craving. On the other side, though, she wants to go back to the hospital to work. She shakes her head. No. The people at Ame's hospital need her far more than the people here.

She nods, slowly, and stands up.

"When do I leave?"

Kakashi smiles at her.

"Tomorrow morning. You are to return in less than a month. You are also to contact me and update me once a week." She turns around and opens the door, but not without missing his words. "Come back in one piece."

Sakura chuckles and closes the door; she always does.

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She knocks on the door with guilty eyes and a shaky hand.

Soon, the door is opened slowly and she's greeted with warm, surprised eyes and a bright smile she knows too well. Naruto stares at her and quickly invites her in with a hug she quickly returns.

Well, the lock, keys, and door need to be picked up, even if she's to be away. She's sure Naruto will understand, and do her the favour.


	9. The Goodbye

**A/N: **Oh my god. Okay so I know it's been almost an _entire _year since I last updated this fanfic but for the life of me I just couldn't bring myself to write. I just want you guys to know that I haven't forgotten that I have to finish, and that I will finish. Sorry if this is shorter than expected.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 9**

**\- _The Goodbye _-**

Sakura is sitting on the sofa with Naruto when Hinata comes from her son's room, said child in her arms. He's being held softly against Hinata's chest, his head resting on a towel on her shoulder. Sakura notices Naruto's eyes softening at the sight.

"Would you like to hold him?" Hinata says as soon as Boruto is done letting out his gas from the breast milk. She stands in front of Sakura, with a sweet smile on her face and both delicate hands holding her son against her.

Sakura wants to say no, because she has to leave soon, but it's been a while and she nods. Hinata leaves Boruto in her arms, very slowly, and Sakura holds him in her arms expertly as the doctor she has been for years.

Hinata sits on a chair in front of them.

"Sakura-chan was telling me about Ino's pregnancy." Naruto says, unbeknownst to him that his wife doesn't know about this fact. The young woman's eyes widen after a few seconds of staring at her husband, and then they settle on Sakura.

"Is it true? She's pregnant?" Her voice is louder than usual, obviously surprised that she had been left in the dark. Sakura nods.

"Yeah. I'm sure she was going to tell you soon. I mean, she told me earlier today." She looks at Naruto and gives him a glare, refraining from smacking him just because she's holding his son in her arms and the movement would probably wake him up. And they all knew how much Boruto made noise when he cried, and how much of a struggle was to get him to sleep.

"Oh, it's fine," her friend says, a lot lower now. "I'll congratulate her as soon as I can."

"Awesome, right? Boruto will have a friend to play with soon enough!"

"Shut it, baka! Your son is asleep." She whispers, glaring at him even more.

Boruto sighs in his sleep and inches closer to Sakura's warmth. She smiles a little.

"Anyway, Ino broke her door and now she has to wait two weeks for a new one. She asked if we could pick it up on time." Naruto explains, looking at her wife's confused face. Sakura clears her throat, looking away from the baby's peaceful face and focusing on his mother.

"I'm going on a mission tomorrow and it's going to take a month or so. If you guys can't do it I can just ask Sai or something. Really, it's no big deal."

Hinata shakes her head.

"It's fine, Sakura-san, we can pick it up," she smiles from the chair, "you don't have to worry."

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At around six in the afterfoon, Sakura steps out of her friend's house, bidding her goodbye and wishing them a good night. The sky outside is still bright and the sun sits a little past over her head, the tell-tales of July. It won't start getting dark until a little past nine. She passes by some stores she knows too well, still open with Shinobi signs on the front. She considers buying medical supplies and a few soldier pills just in case, but decides against it when she remembers how many supplies she had stored back at home; too many, and she doesn't even think they all fit in the backpack she'll be taking with her on the mission.

But there were many villages with many injured people and she hasn't even seen the damage yet, so she basically doesn't know exactly what she's going into. Obviously, the details Kakashi gave her in a folder were enough to know that many casualties have happened, but no one really knows the gravity of it all until one is in the midst of the blood.

Sakura prefers to be prepared, so she packed all the medical supplies she could fit in her small bag.

As the walk gets quieter and the sun starts making the sky take on a shy yellow tone, her steps get heavy. She doesn't know why, try as she may, but the pebbles on the road she walks on are very interesting at the moment. She watches and tries not to step over the usual crack on the cement ground, here and there; tries not to lift her head up, because she doesn't think she wants to look up at all. Moving her legs faster, she thanks the fact that there's no one around to see how stupid she's acting right now, jumping to avoid cracks on the ground.

Just like when she was a kid, playing alone when she hadn't met Ino yet, her first friend. Imagining tales and a beautiful world around her was her magical skill, back then. Now it's mending people together as best as she can physically.

She walks faster.

The street has a humid air around it and she's glad that she headed over to her house when the sun was beginning to set, because the heat is rising everyday a bit more. She prefers winter.

There are apartments to her left and a field of flowers to her right, all purple and with the petals closed for the upcoming night.

She tries to look at the flowers, observing their beauty and delicacy, watching as a gentle breeze sways them slowly, for a moment.

She almost achieves her goal of not looking up through this narrow street, except that a door closes in one of the apartments to her left and her eyes widen.

And she looks up out of natural reflex—she likes to think it's out of natural causes, and not because she's a Shinobi and she knows just who's there by their chakra.

And there he is, tucking a key into his pocket and looking at her in such way she's long stopped walking; she barely notices the bag of trash he slightly bends to pick up from the floor, which she guesses he had put to the side in order to close the door.

Before she can resume walking along the street and out of it again, hopefully like a normal person this time, he jumps down from the second floor where his apartment is located and lands gracefully in front of her. It startles her a bit and she hopes he doesn't notice the small jump her body performs.

She wonders why she expected him to actually go down the stairs and walk toward her, not literally jump from a second floor like it's a normal thing, like they were made to do such things. Like they don't even think about aproaching things the civilian way, the way they saw the world when they were toddlers. But she knows it is normal; for him, for her. She still can't help but wonder for a split second—because that's the only time she has to think before she sees his face.

His eyes are cold, his body is tense, and his hair is messier than usual.

And she thinks: would it hurt if she says goodbye, like so many times before a mission? She doesn't think it would.

He's standing in front of her like a statue, looking at her; it almost seems like he's looking right through her. As soon as he takes a step to her right, in order to god-knows-why sidestep her and ultimately avoid her, she retaliates.

She takes a step closer to him and effectively blocks his path, fumbling with her hands nervously, never taking her eyes from his calculating gaze.

"I-" she starts, and swallows as he frowns slightly. She starts from the beginning. "Hello, Sasuke-kun," she says, tentatively.

Her voice doesn't shake and she's eternally grateful for that.

Sasuke shifts to his other leg and mutters something under his breath. She catches the "good evening" by some miracle, really.

"I was about to visit you, really, I needed to tell you something," she doesn't know if he sees through her lie, but she doesn't dwell on it too much. After all, she actually was trying to pass by his apartment as fast as she possibly could. She didn't want to see him, but then again, she could've chosen another road to walk through. The logic of it all doesn't make sense to her.

"Then tell me."

"Uh, yeah, see, I went to visit Kakashi-sensei earlier; that lazy man _never_ does his paperwork, and today wasn't any different. He always thinks he can fool people into doing those damn mountains of paper at no apparent cost. But anyway, you do remember that I have to go back to the hospital in a few days, right? Well, I really can't be standing around doing nothing while there are people at the hospital sick all the time. We started talking and he told me that-"

"Are you going on a mission?"

Just like many times before, he figured it out without her saying the words. She opens her eyes wide, astonished, because she hadn't realised she wasn't getting to the point as fast as he wanted her to. After a second or two, she recomposes herself and nods.

"Yeah," she whispers, "I am."

He stays quiet and regards her with a look she can't decipher.

"It's going to take a month or so, I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Aa."

"Well, that was it. I'll see you when I get back, okay?" She flashes a smile she doesn't really feel, and turns around fast enough to keep walking without regretting appearing like such a fool. When she's about to take a turn around the corner, she casts a brief glance over to where she left him, and he's gone. Probably went to throw the trash away.

When she gets to her apartment, the first thing she does is take a quick shower. Then, she finally closes her backpack with medical supplies, frasks to keep poison and antidotes, minimal clothes she'll need, and a few kunai and shuriken. She prepares her pouch to strap it around her thigh the next day, and leaves the clothes she's going to wear on the back of a chair.

When she's done, she sits on her bed and spells a sigh. The sun is setting before her eyes and there is an angry orange hue that makes everything around her the same colour. She goes to sleep early.

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Sasuke wants to slap himself with anything, really. Just a hard slap on his cheek so that maybe the world keeps spinning on its axis.

When yesterday he said to himself he was going to stay home for the rest of his life, he really meant it. But of course he had to break that in a day. And of course he had to go take out the trash.

Of course he had to see her. He had to remember what had happened the previous day and he had to freeze like a fool while locking the door. He had to speak with her and he had to watch her walk away. He just _had to. _

He walks across his living room and sits on his cheap, white couch, looking at the angry orange hues adorning the furniture; making it seem more expensive than it really was.

He had to do many things that day, many wrong decisions and many horrible ones.

What he doesn't do, for a single moment, while he sits on the couch and in the next few days and in the next few weeks, is think of her mission. The thought of her is enough to make him feel different, make him _feel_ things. And change doesn't sit well with Sasuke, so she is tucked away for a long, long time.

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In the morning, she dresses up with the clothes she'd prepared, straps the pouch on her thigh, and puts on the bag on her back. With a quick, trained movement, she ties her Konoha headband so that it holds back her hair.

She's at the gates sooner than later, several hours before the sun comes out.

Sakura starts running through the forest without looking back; she knows there is no one waving her goodbye, anyway.

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The trek to Amegakure is not too arduous. She's been there more than enough times to know it's quite peaceful. The Hidden Rain village is small and cozy, from what she remembers. No one really is outside much, because mostly it just rains, so the streets are quiet and calm all the time.

Sakura keeps running, jumping from branch to branch, not really paying attention at the time. She slept well, so she has enough energy to keep running the whole day. Then, she would camp on a tree branch, way high so that no ninjas are likely to step on it. And then she'd wake up before the sun comes out and hopefully arrive by night to the village.

It was an easy plan, were no Shinobi to ambush her or pass by; she really hoped that wouldn't happen—she wasn't in the mood to fight with so much delicate equipment in her backpack.


	10. The Unexpected

**A/N**: I gotta upload these more often. I also gotta work on _Parting Arrival_. I also hate when chapters don't have sasusaku, but they're needed. Blah.

*Disclaimer*

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**Chapter 10**

**\- _The Unexpected_ -**

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She arrives at the village during the evening of the third day, a few hours later than anticipated. This is because she actually took some hours off to sleep, and then to eat.

There were various small tents set up on the outskirts of the Hidden Rain village, and she remembers reading something about this information in the folder Kakashi had given her. That's where the medics of different villages from Fire set up camp for the night; where they slept at night and left alone at daylight. The tents were spread out in a small clearing, surrounded by trees from all sides. She could estimate the distance from the tents to the village gate was barely a little less than one mile.

When Sakura first stumbles upon this setup, she stops herself from walking any further, and stands confused in the midst of the tents; why would they set up camp in a forest next to the village when they could just stay at inns, or even sleep at the hospital? They didn't have to sleep outside like this when there was a village nearby with plenty of housing options. The report didn't touch upon the reason, but when she hears distant screams she thinks she gets the idea of why.

She doesn't delve much into it, but sidesteps all the tents until she reaches the gate of the village.

And that's when she understands.

The village is almost unrecognizable. Everything is destroyed; somehow, she gets to notice how some towers have fallen and how there are limbs sticking from the remains. She gets to notice how some buildings are barely standing and how the cables and tubes that connected different apartments are strewn across the ground. People are screaming in pain and limping to the nearest doctor they can find. _If_ they could find any, that is. Because, from the looks of it, there are not enough medic nins to take care of everyone at the same time. The people are out on the streets, hiding under towers and buildings that have already fallen or that will, soon.

Sakura stands there for the longest time, just looking at the village that is practically torn apart. She's aghast and everything moves in slow motion.

What once was the village with the most infrastructure in the Shinobi world is now coming apart. The once dark, immeasurably high towers are merely standing anymore, and some have completely collapsed to the wet ground like fallen heroes. There are a few towers and buildings standing in the far background, she can get to see, but the entrance of the village is a total nightmare. Although iron and metal are the dominant colours in this landscape, she thinks that the dark blue from the buildings can be dark just because of the blood that's probably spread around.

A long pipe suddenly gushes out water twenty feet from where she's standing, broken and fractured almost in the middle of its length. The shorter part stays vertical, still attached to its building. It's like time stops as soon as the longer part of the pipe starts falling forward, detaching from itself and moving rapidly toward screaming civilians. Somehow, because the length of the pipe could almost reach the astonished pink-haired Kunoichi, it only catches one of them. She scarcely sees a woman trying to get her torso out from below the heavy pipe, but Sakura can't move. Before she can even take a step toward the struggling woman, said woman collapses and ultimately stops breathing right before her emerald eyes.

There are voices everywhere and she can't get to focus on one only.

It's chaos.

The last time she visited, Konan was the ruler of this village, and after her death, she just didn't come back. Rumors had it that there has been no actual leader since the Akatsuki member's death.

An old woman collapses right next to where Sakura is standing, and she only notices because her elderly hand graces the side of her long-unmoving leg. She doesn't have time to berate herself for acting so stupid and standing for a whole minute in front of this havoc of corpses and screaming—she's one of the greatest medics of her time, if not _the _greatest, so she shouldn't have been in so much shock for so damn long.

Sakura finally snaps out of it and quickly bends down to check her pulse and breathing pattern. It takes her less than three seconds to know that the elderly woman is dead and that she probably could have saved her around five seconds ago. But she doesn't let it get to her head too much.

This wasn't on her mission file.

She stands up and looks around, trying to frenetically find anyone that is unattended and needs help.

It's not hard to do so since there is an obvious shortage of medics to the increasing number of critically injured civilians and Shinobi.

A little girl, probably around twelve years old, is holding another girl's hand whilst crying over her body to Sakura's left. It's the first thing she looks at and it's the first place where she goes. As fast as she can, she gets to the children and places a hand on the girl's back. Sakura's knees fall to the ground next to the child who's lying down.

The girl raises her head from the youngest kid, glaring at Sakura and holding a knife in one hand in a defensive stance, clearly ready to strike.

"Hello, I'm doctor Haruno. I need to check your friend." She tries to sound convincing, even smiling a little to let the girl know she's trustworthy. God knows what everyone has seen since the attacks. God knows if the girl is still in shock or if there is trauma.

She sounds convincing, for the girl breaks down even more and eventually inches away from the lying form on the ground, giving Sakura space to check up on her.

Three seconds later and Sakura looks at the sobbing girl next to the corpse, a heartbroken expression on her face.

"M-My little sister, she..." Sakura prepares to stand up and look for more injured people to heal, but the little girl reaches for her skirt with more strength than Sakura would expect of a twelve-year-old civilian girl. "She was running away with me after the tower with mom and dad fell down, when someone appeared in front of me. And then I don't know what happened but she... She pushed me aside and the sword struck her and..."

If it weren't for Sakura's trained, ninja ears she wouldn't have heard the story amidst all the madness around them.

"Please, you _have_ to save her, she saved _me_." The twelve-year-old is looking at her with all the hope in the world, and she really wishes there was something she could do to save her long-dead little sister. But there were more people to heal and there was nothing she could do for this girl; she can tell her sister had died more than fifteen minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," Sakura says, slowly as if testing the water. "Your sister can't be saved, but I need to save more people that still can be." Sakura quickly realizes she hadn't checked up on her, crouches down to her level once more, and stammers an "are you okay?" which she immediately regrets; of course she's not okay, she's just experienced the death of her father, mother, and little sister in mere hours. Sakura examines her with her expert eyes and makes sure she's _physically_ okay. She was referring to her injuries, not her emotional state.

"Please, stay here, save." And then she runs to the nearest dying person, with probably only a few breaths more to take.

It's a Kunoichi, like her, who's clutching at what she supposes is a wound on her head. The purple locks of hair cover most of it and the woman's hand doesn't really let her see much from a distance either. So Sakura gets to where she is sitting, against a concrete wall that once belonged to a building, and is now only three feet tall. Enough to hold the Kunoichi's body.

Sakura's knees touch the bloodied, wet ground and immediately she grabs a hold of the woman, who immediately opens her eyes to look at her in alarm.

"I'm sorry I scared you, I'm doctor Haruno," she offers a small smile to the disoriented woman and said person looks back at her, a frown marrying her older features. "I need to look at that on your head," Sakura rushes a little, wasting no more time and not waiting for the older woman to let her take a look. She moves the hand and parts her hair until she sees the entirety of the damage.

It's a pretty big gash, and a miracle gash at that; a little bit more to the left and it would've hit her brain stem. The problem is at the side of her head, a little behind her ear running obliquely. Sakura's hands start glowing an expert soft green, and with concentration written all over her features, she starts assessing the internal damage. For a moment there she thinks whatever sharp object entered her head had moved past the brain and inflicted harm in the actual temporal lobe, but it doesn't come that close; _in fact_, the sharp object hadn't even touched the thin cerebral cortex. In as little as five minutes, she has completely healed the wound and repaired all the extra nerves near the brain stem that had suffered the impact, only leaving a soft pink scar where the injury had originated. "All good, please stay here, far from harm's reach."

"Wait, doctor, please," she fists her hands are her sides and looks at Sakura in alarm. "Have you seen my son around? He's three years old, brown hair and green eyes and," she takes a deep breath, finding trouble in talking, "I was with him before the explosions started and soon everyone was running; it was chaos, we got separated and then something hit me and I just..." Sakura swallows, looks back for a minute and looks at her again. "Have you seen him?"

The desperate tone of voice is very clear in Sakura's ears and she debates with herself for two seconds. But she can't lie. She really hadn't seen any boy fitting that description around. "I haven't, but maybe someone else does" is all she can say, surprised that her throat is dry and the words are raspy, as if they didn't want to come out of her mouth at all.

The woman with purple hair barely has time to choke on her sobs before Sakura is moving quickly to another injured Shinobi. She has no time to think about the situation that the poor woman is facing, just like she didn't have time to think about the little girl from before losing her sister. She just didn't.

Soon enough, the people screaming in pain and gushing out blood from some part of their bodies stop coming up. No more than two hours later, all critically injured are partially healed or dead. The rest have injuries, but they are less grave, easier to heal.

Sakura moves around from person to person with as much speed as she can. She moves on to the people with things like dislocated shoulders or large scratches—things like minor scratches, scraped knees, and sprained ankles that have been left for last. It helps that she's not the only medic around helping.

After another hour, she's done with her work. Her chakra reserves are still plenty of healing chakra, around three-fourths of her body's capacity. She wipes the sweat from her forehead, looking up at the clouds that obstruct the bright full moon above them. For the village of Rain, it was really hot that day, even though it had rained little before she got to the village.

Sakura looks around her for the first time since she started healing and notices all the medics are looking at her from the sidelines; the six people that she counts are all pretending to be healing more injured people but, really, she can tell they've finally taken in her presence.

One of the medics, a tall blond man around his thirties, approaches her with a smile.

"Haruno Sakura? I'm the head doctor of Amegakure: you can call me Hiro." Sakura isn't surprised he knows who she is without her input. After all, her pink hair is unmistakable. The man continues. "I've heard plenty of your accomplishments, and I gotta say," the man lowers his voice and smiles more at her, a few drops of blood on his attire and face, "I'm very grateful you could arrive on time and help us."

Sakura nods, still confused about what has actually happened since she arrived at this village. With this in mind, she speaks.

"Thank you for letting me help, Hiro-san," she bows slightly as a sign of gratitude and looks at him again. "I'm sorry but, could you tell me what happened before I came here?"

"Of course, but first we should go somewhere else."

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Hiro leads her through the landscape of blood and destruction, walking swiftly and gracefully as if one-third of the entire village hasn't been almost completely obliterated. She trails close behind him, careful to not step on any of the few dead bodies scattered here and there from time to time.

After a few minutes, they pass the mess the attack left behind, and enter the two-thirds of the village that were actually still relatively intact. The buildings still stand tall and the towers reach for the sky and beyond, the remaining Shinobi are rushing to the attacked area after fending off this one, and civilians are in their houses.

They enter a building on the West side of the village, passing through two big double doors located in hallways before finally arriving at a room. It's round, large, and has a big round table in its center. Sakura takes notice of the other five medics seated around the table and five other people she doesn't recognize, who all stand up at their arrival and sit down when they do the same thing. Sakura takes a seat next to Hiro.

It seems to Sakura that this is where most important conferences are held in Amegakure, or at least one of the rooms for that.

A man directly in front of her, across the table, speaks first.

"As head of the Amegakure Investigation Quarters, which is now unfortunately in ruins, demolished, and lost to all of us, I will brief everyone on the recent attacks this village has sustained, starting with a month ago." The whole room goes silent as soon as he finishes and Sakura takes all the information in. "We don't know who is causing these attacks, at least here, but we do know that it's more than one person. More precisely, we think they're three." Sakura frowns slightly. "They travel by air, making it all the easier to drop bombs on us whenever they please.

"The attackers fly with summonings, but they're not made out of clay like the deceased member of Akatsuki, Deidara, once made. And they're not made of ink, so essentially we don't know what exactly they are, but we do know that some of the attackers have been known to jump down here and inflict damage more... Personally."

Sakura takes a deep breath, finding it hard to believe that no one has done any of them any harm yet.

"A month ago, they attacked by dropping only one bomb, and then they left. It seems they wanted to scare the general population, but we don't know why. The next attack was two days ago; they dropped several bombs on different buildings scattered all across the village and left again. By this time, most of the world heard about these attacks and some other villages communicated that the same attacks have been happening over there." There are several serious faces around the table, taking in all the information that some of them already knew, and some are hearing for the first time now. Like Sakura.

"Today, as you have seen, has been brutal. The worst thing is that they concentrated the attacks in only one small portion of the village: the South. And this time, two of them came down and started stabbing whoever they could first land eyes on. They left around four hours ago."

Deeming this as the end of the briefing, Sakura exhales the air she had been holding and relaxes a little against the hard seat.

The man in front of her does the same, she notices, and opens his aging lips to speak once again.

"Everyone in the village is fortunate for having more and more medic nins coming from several villages in Fire and its borders to help. Here Doctor Amarashi came from Kusagakure, the Hidden Grass village," he says, pointing to a man on his right with light blond hair and dark eyes. "Doctor Hika to my left came from Zetusen Village just a week ago," he points to a young man with a bright smile and sparkling blue eyes, and Sakura can't help but think of Naruto. There is barely any resemblance at all, given that his skin is darker and his hair is blue. Not to mention that this doctor is much skinnier and probably shorter than Naruto.

"-Just yesterday."

Sakura frowns slightly. It's a few heartbeats later that she realizes she hasn't been paying attention, more preoccupied thinking of one of her best friends back at home, with a wife and a kid and essentially a family to call his own.

She shakes her head a little and pays attention to the head of the investigation quarters in Ame.

He looks around the table and spots the man that had led Sakura to the place, and points to him with his palm up and arm extended. "Doctor Kore Hiro has been working as head of the Amegakure hospital for more than five years, which, if none of you have noticed, is also destroyed. Doctor Kore has been of great help to every injured since the attacks started. Thank you. To all of you."

Many nods are exchanged in the room, and soon the man lands eyes on her. She doesn't miss how she's the only female medic nin in the room, but she doesn't dwell on that too much.

"I was told the Hokage would send two medics of the lower ranks, but this is much better, and unexpected," a small smile graces his lips. "Doctor Haruno has decided to join us since this very day."

"I've seen how fast she healed the worst of injuries two hours ago, in the midst of the chaos. What everyone in the world says about you is really true. You are very skilled," Hiro adds to what the man in front of her had said, and she blushes in embarrassment. If she knew him more, like she does Naruto or Sai, she would have slapped his shoulder right then and there. But she doesn't, so she just tries not to cover her face and looks at him with a smile.

"Thank you. All of you, as medic nins, are sure to be skilled as well," she says. Hiro smiles and nods a little, turning to face all the other faces at the same time she does.

There's a middle-aged woman who clears her throat loudly two seats down Sakura's right, clearly making it known that she was going to start talking.

"I'm Hitoshi Yumi, head of ANBU in the village. I know ya'll have been acknowledging the docs and such, but I gotta say: What are the plans for my team? Surely the attackers gotta be, well, _attacked,_ if you know what I mean." She looks like she wants to laugh at her own choice of words, but decides not to because of the serious atmosphere all around the room. When nobody speaks up, she clears her throat again. "Anyway, just wanna let you guys know that I'll dispatch a team of ANBU to search the area around the borders of Amegakure."

Sakura notices there are three people next to her who she's been pointing at during her talk, and maybe they are a few ANBU from her team.

The head of Investigation leans back in his chair. "Great. The sooner we find them, the better. But you might want to expand your search a little, and send two teams. Last time Shinobi went looking for them around Amegakure, around the second wave of attacks, they didn't come back alive."

It's as though Yumi remembers exactly that time, for a somber wave crosses through her expression before she nods briskly.

Sakura looks at everyone, taking in everything, and thinking for possible solutions.

"Alright, anyone wants to add in more comments?" He asks, clearly ready to leave the room.

Hiro, to her left, speaks.

"I'm not sure what to do with all the injured and all the people who are near the site attacked. Should we take them to the shelter on the East?"

The man in front of Sakura seems to think it through.

"There's really no other place to take them to, although that place hasn't been used since the Fourth Shinobi War. It shouldn't be in the best conditions."

Hiro nods. "Then again, any place is better than out on the streets."

The man and Hiro exchange knowing looks, and everyone decide to stand up. Sakura follows as if she had also known she had to stand up.

"Meeting is dismissed; everyone knows what to do."

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The first thing Sakura does after they all step out of the building is approach Hiro. She casually walks until she's next to him. She can tell the direction of where he's walking leads to the destructed area of the village, in the South. She clicks her tongue.

"So I need to talk to you about the attacks," she expresses without looking at him. He, though, looks at her with a funny face.

"Yeah? That entire meeting we had back there was held solely to talk about the attacks." This is when she looks at him. He raises his eyebrows at her, walking, and smiles with slightly bent teeth that were probably the product of not wearing braces as a kid—or just hereditary, she thinks.

"Yeah, duh, but this is about the hospital, which you direct. And I didn't want to have an entire conversation back there with you in front of everyone. That would waste their time."

"What is it?"

"Was the whole hospital destroyed, or were some wards saved from the attacks?" She asks, and he answers faster than she expected with a more serious tone.

"All of it is on the ground. There was nothing to be saved. Especially not the patients inside." Sakura suppresses the shiver up her spine in the humid, warm night. "We were actually lucky that at least six medics, including me, were not at the hospital at the time of the bombing. I heard that was the first place bombed today."

"Today? Which means before that it was intact, right? Do you happen to have anything that could be used to identify the attackers?"

"The equipment for DNA identification was stored at the hospital, although..." He looks away as if thinking it over in his head, and then runs a hand down his face. The dried blood from others on his cheeks doesn't move. "You might want to ask Noru-sama."

At her confused expression, he speaks again.

"The head ninja of Amegakure Investigation Quarters. They might have something." Sakura nods. "Why?"

"Because I might find something in the village. Two of them came down and touched several people, or they might have left something behind. I just want to cover all the bases here."

Hiro nods but bites his lip deep in thought. "Wouldn't you leave that to the actual investigating team?"

She knows there's not biting tone in his voice; he really was curious as to why she would go an extra length when that wasn't her field of expertise, or even why she came to this village at all.

"They can come back, and I want to make sure that if I can help, I will. In any way I can, really, I just want to make sure they are taken into custody before they harm more people."

Or before a certain special someone who has the Rinnegan is forced to take matters into his hands, she adds in her head.

Hiro, in turn, doesn't answer, and after a moment or two of silence, she starts seeing debris in the distance as they approach the South.

"I hope they know what they have done. Bombing a hospital is a damn sign of war."

He sighs.

"Yeah."


	11. The Shelter

**A/N: **Pushing myself to write so that I can finish this and move on to my other three ongoing stories, whoop whoop. And no, HiroSaku is not a thing.

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**Chapter 11**

_**\- The Shelter -**_

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They communicate the message to the other five medics—about what exactly they had to do, right after her conversation with the head doctor ends—and these quickly approach every person who's sitting on the cold, unforgiving ground of the South of Ame. The destruction around them, hours after the short but relentless bombing, reminds Sakura of the aftermath of the Fourth Shinobi War, in which she played a main role. Of course, this tiny area doesn't remotely compare to the size of the grand battlefield back then, but there are still a few similarities. The ground seems painted with a mixture of dry blood, ash, and the remnants of the debris; the atmosphere seems lifeless, filled with the leftovers of a catastrophe; the air around them is thick with pain and loss, and she can get to hear quiet, tired,_ defeated_ sobs if she really makes the effort to listen; she's sure that if the sky was a bright blue instead of a bottomless black, she could get to see the risen ash from the fallen buildings and the harm to anything cemented.

Sakura looks around the place and spots several of the better-off civilians and Shinobi trying to help whoever needs it in getting up.

The people who suffered the worst of injuries, the ones who barely made it out of there alive, need a very long recovery and adequate medical supplies to be checked regularly. But with the hospital destroyed, Sakura could only guess the only way to tend to them would be directly by using chakra in order to scan through their bodies. She'd brought medical supplies with her to the mission, in her bag, but they weren't the necessary ones. She didn't bring with her a stethoscope, a tongue depressor, or even urine flasks to test them. It hadn't crossed her mind days before that the hospital could be bombed, in part because she would have known specifically on her report or she would have heard the declaration of war from town gossip. Such thing left her with only her healing chakra to help. And although that was more than enough, she didn't want to tire herself every single day like that.

Their injuries will remain tender for months, healing very slowly because of deep gashes, stab wounds and/or cut-off limbs. Of course, since not everyone is recuperating from their bruises or internal damage, the rest of people whose houses were destroyed in the wave of attacks are also approached. And soon, there's a line of Shinobi and civilians both walking calmly to the Shelter that's ten minutes away—she estimates, looking at the pace they're going.

Hiro is at the front of the long group, there are other two medics at the sides, and other two further down the line, closer to the end. Sakura, in turn, is going around the place to make sure no one is left behind, alongside another medic whose name she doesn't recall. She makes sure no one is hiding under fallen buildings or asleep against walls. After finding no one, and making sure to expand their chakras in the zone and spotting no other living person in the place, they catch up with the group and start walking at the end, tired but alert.

She takes her eyes away from the road, looks at the man walking three feet to her right, and tries to make out his profile under the moonlight. She remembers him from the meeting they had thirty minutes ago, but she can't come up with a name. He's her height, lean, and of dark complexity.

She sighs.

"Is it usually this hot in Ame?" She casually asks, hoping to start a conversation with the man, hoping she didn't come as too forward or blunt. If she's going to be walking for ten minutes in this weather, she might as well be entertained.

The man looks at her and strikes a smile like he's been waiting for a conversation to actually happen, eyes wrinkling with the motion of his lips and sparkling in a colour sky blue. Eyes so blue, even in the dark of the night, and smile so reassuring and warm that she's immediately thrown back to the meeting. Naruto's warm, friendly smile flashes in her head and eyes look at her for a second, making her smile back for no reason at all. This man's physique is completely different from her best friend's, nevertheless, she doesn't feel as alone in this unfamiliar village anymore.

He's the doctor from Zetusen village. The name still escapes her.

"Actually, yeah. It's because it's often raining, so the levels of humidity are high here," he explains, shoving his hands into his deep ninja pants pockets. She glances at the motion and succinctly gets an image of someone else, with his vest and shoving his only hand into the same coloured pants as this man. It's only for a moment, but it leaves her breathless as if he was standing right there with her.

First she thinks of Naruto, and now her brain plays tricks on her and decides to plant Sasuke's habits in her already disordered line of thought. Must be the tiredness of the events from the day, she concludes.

She coughs to hide her embarrassment for staring for too long at the man's trousers, probably looking like some perverted thirteen-year-old fangirl. She quickly looks at the people walking leisurely a few feet in front of them, thankful that at least it's nighttime and he might not have noticed.

"I see. I just hope the shelter has air conditioning."

He laughs a little and she tries to pinpoint a time when Sasuke laughed as freely as this man, and as loudly, but she finds no answer. The silence is presented to them in the most convenient of ways and she holds on to it as much as her fingers can grasp the air. Before she can interrupt said silence, though, she's left staring once again at the nothingness of the streets, mind moving time back to when warm, dark eyes looked at her under the roof of her apartment, or the cold of the night after a long shift at the hospital, or on hotter days walking next to each other.

It's like time stops and there is no humidity making her sweaty, no steps sounding around her, and no mission. She lets herself think of him, of his warm eyes—warm eyes that are not even his at all, but rather his late brother's, implanted there with pain and resolve and Sakura sometimes has trouble thinking that she's not really looking at his, but at _Itachi's _gaze. She shudders. She shifts her focus to his straight nose and thin lips. It's like she forgets about everything else, and there is only him.

His hand touching her forearm when she's ready to leave for her mission, and moving it away fast as if it burnt, anyway leaving goosebumps all over her body. Her face against his warm, broad chest after he catches her in the cold of one night when she's close to fainting from chakra depletion; the way he carries her over his shoulder to her apartment, leaves her on the bed and wraps her in the blanket carefully. His breath hitching after she puts her hands on his chest, stands on her tiptoes, and innocently kisses his cheek after having dinner with him and Naruto. The feel of his calloused palm encircling around her hand to take the knife away, in her kitchen, and cut the tomatoes himself. His hand taking off her hair clip, moving past her cheeks to let her hair flow, his calm voice telling her she has let it grow. Her eyes wetting with unspilled tears which flow down like a waterfall as soon as the door closes with a click.

She glances down at her bracelet, touching it subconsciously and smiling to herself.

With a sense of dread, she recalls the exact moment when she started telling herself to stop thinking about him and his enigmatic actions. She recalls exactly _why_ she started telling herself so.

Part of it is because there's the familiar itch, she remembers, crawling at her skin at the anxiety of Sasuke leaving again for a long period of time and the fact that she has to wait, and wait, and wait. Apart from the itch, the waiting and the unreciprocated love hit her again like a punch to the gut. She holds her breath, suddenly remembering all the reasons why she told herself to focus on her work and not think of Sasuke to start with, months ago—weeks, days, even.

She shakes her head, not very clear on what to do at this point.

To start with, the man hasn't been exactly close to her lately. Not that he's ever... _Close_, but he's been more distant lately, for some reason she can't arrive at.

On top of that, she gets fearful from time to time whenever her stupid brain decides to think he's going to leave and never come back. And even though she knows he wouldn't do that to Team Seven, it bugs her. At least, she likes to think he wouldn't do that to them anymore. But she knows him, and he can't be in Konoha for too long.

She also can't help but hurt inside every time she sees him so... So _there_, so beautiful and captivating and perfect. She hurts when she can't be a part of his life, in a more personal way, or when she wants to reach out and hug him until his demons take a few steps away—because she knows that they'll never truly leave, no matter how much time passes or how much effort is put into making him cope, and she can't help but ponder on how the unconscious mind is an interesting thing. She knows she can't just burst into his personal life, proclaim herself his, and hug him until he feels the soothing effect of forgiveness.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't want to. Most of the time, all she wants is to be there for him and help in any way possible.

She loves him so much. And even if she tells herself that she wants to focus on her work and stop hurting and stop waiting and stop giving her everything when he's present, she knows she can't. It's impossible; it's in her nature. She would so much as give her life for that man, and then a little more.

She recalls all the months she's been crying over him, spilling tears because she was so tired of waiting and expecting and receiving one needle a myriad of hay. In its essence, because he wouldn't love her back like she does him. In its highest pure colour, because she's been waiting for something never to arrive.

She shakes her head. How much more stupid can she be?

Sasuke had tapped her forehead years ago, with a promise and words of gratitude she still holds dear to her heart. A promise to come back to her. And when he finally did, months ago, she set her expectations so high that she didn't realise the reality of it all. Sasuke _can't_ love her like she loves him. He can't, it's not physically and emotionally possible for such a damaged, used, manipulated, defensive, hurt, and scarred man. The events in his life don't let him love freely and expressively like she does. The events in his life don't let him express his emotions correctly and voice his deepest concerns out loud like she does.

If anything, he has _just_ started to heal.

She mentally berates herself for thinking otherwise.

"Doctor Haruno?"

She whips her head to the right. The doctor with blue eyes stares at her with a frown marrying his delicate features. She stares back as if she had missed two years of her life and had to get filled in with all the details.

"Are you alright? Excuse me for being so intrusive, but I've noticed you've tripped over yourself twice already," he says, murmuring the words as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear.

She, in turn, gasps audibly. She hadn't noticed how much time she'd spent staring at no spot in particular, much less that she had tripped twice. She was so entrapped in her thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to the environment.

"Oh, I..." She looks away for a moment, snapping out of her thoughts before looking back at him with an apologetic smile. "No, I'm fine, just deep in thought. Today has been pretty busy." Not the complete truth, but truth nonetheless.

He nods and they both stop walking when the line unanticipatedly stops moving, no warnings given.

"What's wrong?" He inquires, concern lacing his voice as he stands on his tip toes to see what's happening beyond them.

"We're probably at the shelter already. I guess Hiro-san is opening it." She sighs and hunches her shoulders she speaks, a protection barrier to the world.

The doctor looks her with his thick eyebrows up, disbelief written over his eyes at the familiar addressing she uses for her superior. Even if the disbelief is clear as glass on his face, and even if she gets to look at such expression before it morphs into a stoic normality, he doesn't comment on it.

"Look, it's moving again," she points to the line up ahead, starting to advance to what seems to be inside the shelter.

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By the time the doors of the shelter lock behind Sakura and the other doctor, it's ten at night.

The lights are on, and she's slightly surprised they still work after all this time. Although, then again, they weren't used during the war for that much time.

The shelter inside is bright and spacious, with more than enough space for an army of Shinobi from the village. The ceiling is tall, so much so that she has to crane her neck in order to look at it properly. The walls are white, the floors are a grey kind of wood, and the stairs leading up to a small hallway on the second floor are of a navy blue.

"Sakura-san, glad to see you made it here," Hiro exclaims, muscled arms folded over his chest and a smile on his face. Sakura looks away from the decorations all around her to look at him.

"You shouldn't expect any less from me," she says with a smile of her own. "And just Sakura is fine, by the way."

"Alright, _just Sakura_, wanna go upstairs? The storage room is there if I remember correctly. We can see what the shelter has that everyone needs."

She rolls her eyes at him and nods, a smile still implanted on her face.

"Hey, do you know if the air conditioning still works here?" She questions while they go up the stairs, not caring to hold onto the railings that most likely would leave splinters in her hands anyway.

Hiro doesn't look back when he answers. "There's actually someone looking over that right now. It should work, though."

They reach the second floor. As if on cue, and before Sakura can open her mouth to leave a comment, a rush of cold air comes from the wall on Sakura's right, and they share a look before laughing knowingly.

"Come on, I think this is the room," he walks toward a large wooden door at the end of the hallway, rummaging through his pockets in order to find the key. "As the head doctor, I have a copy of the shelter, as well as any door inside it. I didn't think I would ever have to use it, though."

When they enter the storage room, Sakura stills.

Rows and rows and rows of supplies face them. The air around them seems constricting as if contained in this room for too long. The dust particles shine below the only lightbulb in the room, its light illuminated most, but not all, of the rectangular space.

She finds that the more she looks around, the less light there is.

"Well, here we are. The storage room." Hiro exclaims, throwing his arms up in one swift motion and stretching them over his head. The muscles constrict and protest at the sudden motion, the only activity the arms had had being the lifting motion in order to heal.

"This is pretty amazing. Back in Konoha's shelter, we don't really have these many supplies. This room is twice the size of Konoha's," she discloses, taking a few steps to the nearest metal rack.

She touches a box in front of her line of vision and opens it with minimal strength, peering inside of it with curiousness. A blanket and a folded sleeping mat face her. When she turns to the right and sees the same kind of boxes, she tilts her head up to observe the same boxes were high up on the taller shelves she can't reach.

It seems as if she takes too much time gazing at the boxes around her, for Hiro clicks his tongue and stands next to her in a heartbeat, nonchalant and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What's wrong?" He asks, concern lacing his deep voice.

Sakura shakes her head a little, still looking up, going over a hundred different questions in her analyzing brain. As soon as she processes his question in her mind, she stops all the questions she has in the air. She tilts her head down again, enough to look at him. The movement is simple and small, and she wonders for a moment why this is.

_How tall are you?_

"How tall are you?"

"What?"

She doesn't immediately redden, it takes a while. It also takes her a while to realise she had spoken her thoughts aloud. But as soon as she realises, her face reddens instinctively.

"Just..." She slaps a hand to her warm face, groaning internally and outwardly as she drags it down. "Just forget it. Do all the boxes in this room contain blankets and sleeping mats?"

She's not looking at him anymore, but she notices he shifts from one leg to the other uncomfortably. "Um, yeah I think so."

She nods and walks along the sides of the racks, passing by them and looking for something else. Other than those boxes, she finds cans at the back. _Cans with no expiration date_, she thinks as she grabs one and looks it over, turning it in her hand. She leaves the can aside and looks around the back of the place, finding boxes at the bottom of the rack, on the bottom shelf. These are different than all the other ones, so she opens one of them and widens her eyes at the sight of vials and expensive medical equipment inside, fit for one medic to use on more than ten people. Sakura swallows her excitement, turns around with the intent of looking for Hiro, and instead jumps slightly when said man is already in front of her.

He laughs wholeheartedly at her expression of distress and next at her pout for being laughed at. There are still remnants of laughter when she speaks, voice biting back snide remarks, he can guess.

"As I was _about_ to say, look," she voices, inching the delicate box in his direction. "There are three more boxes like this. It should suffice for the small tests we need to run and to heal remaining small injuries."

"I'm certain we can work with this, we should bring them downstairs to the other doctors and then..." He trails off, looking at the vials with interest. "Then we can all start bringing down those mats and blankets, no? We'll give one to each person and hope we can all get some sleep before morning comes." His brown eyes gaze up at her from long eyelashes, and another question pops in her head.

"Can we? How many people are here compared to boxes?"

After five long seconds of pondering, he utters his answer.

"Actually, you're right. It would be best if we line up everyone and make a count. Then, we can estimate if relatives need to share commodities from a shortage of boxes.

"Sounds good, let's go." She grabs another of the delicate boxes like she was holding a feather and he grabs hold of the remaining two with just as much ease.

As they walk to the both entrance and exit of the dust-covered room, he says something that, yet again, curves the sides of her lips up.

"I'm six feet and two inches tall, by the way."

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There are one hundred and eighty people both civilian and Shinobi in total at the shelter. This number is not counting the medics, who have tents set up right outside the village. Sakura and Hiro go upstairs again and count the boxes, finding that, in fact, there were an astonishing and relieving two hundred.

In thirty minutes, everyone downstairs is accommodating their beds and draping over themselves the thin but comforting beige blanket, and there's a peace reigning over them that they probably haven't felt in the past forty-eight hours. They finally can go to sleep.

Sakura and the other medic nins are still in the storage room, chattering amongst each other before they start leaving as a group. Sakura can only guess they're leaving to their tents outside of Amegakure, and she falters.

The fact that she doesn't have a tent makes itself very clear in her mind and she lingers in the room a little more. Grabbing hold of one of the few leftover boxes, she takes out the dark sleeping mat and the light blanket, tucking them under her blood-stained arms and leaving the opened box on the shelf.

"Sakura, you coming?" Hiro's blonde head pops in from outside the room, the chattering of the doctors moving farther and farther away.

She looks at him and walks toward the door, thinking that he stays behind to wait for her, for he has to lock the door.

"I think I'm gonna sleep here too. I left my tent back at home and, even if I had a tent set up outside the gates, this is a good idea." She steps outside, brushing her arm against his. "If any injuries start acting up or we get another attack, I can be here to help."

There's a flash of recognition and pride in Hiro's eyes before he enters the room with determination and comes out the same way she did, same-looking blanket and bed as hers.

"I'll stay with you, in case."

Sakura doesn't really question him. After all, one doctor for more than one hundred people could turn out to be chaos on the long run.

They set up their stuff on the far left of the shelter, downstairs. Away from everyone but close enough to wake up if anyone needs help, and close enough to the door in case of an emergency.

The sleeping mat on Sakura's back should feel like she's lying directly on the cold, hard ground, but to her, it feels like heaven.


	12. The Fall

**A/N: **So here's the next chapter! I'm excited for chapter 13, and you can get an idea why by the end of this one kuku. And to that guest reviewer saying this is a "bash sasuke fic," back off :) Freaking fight me last chapter I said this fic is not, and I repeat, **_NOT_** HiroSaku. I just have him there for specific purposes which will be revealed in time. Like how rude can you be xD Thanks for all the other wonderful reviews, though! I'm kinda proud of myself for posting three chapters in a month. Anyway, read on.

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**Chapter 12**

_**\- The Fall -**_

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The day after, she goes out and finds the head of the Amegakure Investigation Quarters, Noru-sama. She asks him about extracting the DNA from the attacked site, and although he has plenty of equipment at the base his team has relocated to—after the attack, which left their main quarters destroyed, she's told that they went to their Plan B location—he tells her there are slight-to-no chances of actually getting at least one of the attackers, so she just lets it go.

Sakura, alongside the other six available doctors, heals people that need extra necessary care every day at the shelter.

After two weeks, most people in the establishment are healthy and ready to go out. That is if there was somewhere for them to go to. The destruction of the several houses in the South area of the village impedes the release of people who have been at the Shelter and are prepared to start over their lives. She hears a handful of workers and volunteers began to repair the damage around two days ago; to rebuild the entire thing from scratch, which could take years.

Sakura talks to Hiro about arranging a few things and looking for different empty apartments in the rest of the village so that they're filled with these people here until their own homes are rebuilt. He directly talks to Noru-sama and a few other important officials of the village, who she doesn't really know or has ever seen, who then agree to her idea and start assigning apartments to the people at the shelter.

A week later, all the people previously at the shelter are finally living at different locations of Amegakure, in different apartments. Sakura helps with last-minute checkups as the people leave. She sits on an average chair, in front another average chair, and tends to every patient in line who sits.

She stands when an old man with a right eye patch, missing fingers, and hoarse voice refuses to sit for a reason he mumbles under his breath and ultimately escapes her, and from then on she just remains standing when she heals everyone else.

"You think we'll be done by tonight?" A voice asks.

Sakura looks at Hiro to her left, and for a moment in the background, she thinks she sees the purple-haired woman who had had a head wound three weeks ago, which she had tended to, walking out the shelter with a small child in her arms. But the woman is gone before she can make sure it's her, and she turns her eyes to Hiro once again, smiling without really feeling it in her to do so.

"Yeah, we'll be done." She reassures, turning back to the next patient, a boy she remembers had scratches on his knees.

She doesn't really see—or she misses, for some reason, while healing here and there—the twelve-year-old who had lost her parents and her sister in one day. This makes her ponder for a moment and turn around while she assesses an elderly woman, scanning over the remaining people at the shelter who wait in seven different lines for their last checkups at the establishment. But she doesn't spot her. Either she had already left, or she was never there to begin with.

She's the first one to finish the line of people assigned to her, in the afternoon. There are still a few dozens of people in the other lines, and she cleans the space after herself. This is the last day that she stays at the shelter, and so she walks upstairs to the shared female showers with a change of clothes from her bag. There is no one, as expected, and she takes a very long, very well deserved shower. It's scalding hot and it leaves an angry pink all over her skin when she gets out of the stall, but she doesn't find it in herself to mind it that much. After so many days without having time to take a damn quick shower, she's quite thankful for the one she takes now, even if it burns more than calms.

When everybody is gone, she also helps clean up the place and she's issued a tent with the other medics for the remainder of her stay—which isn't so much as a mere week more.

She's been sending Kakashi letters once a week every week, as discussed, and receiving letters every week too. The last letter she received was the day before, asking her to come back in a week, right after she writes her final weekly report.

Sakura sleeps in her tent at night—under the constant rain that makes her tent shake and tremble, leaving her missing the weather of her home—when the tiredness of the day's events catch up to her. Sometimes she sleeps enough, but most of the time she stays awake for hours, staring at the random leaves and twigs that hit the outside of her tent whenever the winds get too violent. They stick to the outside from the harsh rain, and she stares until her eyes close on their own accord and she succumbs to dreams she never remembers the day later.

She attends more meetings in the same conference room, hangs out with Hiro, and takes walks alone in the village. Sometimes she takes walks in the outskirts. Sakura does everything she can in order to find who the attackers are and stop them.

The ANBU teams dispatched three weeks ago return a week before she has to leave, unsuccessful and exhausted. This only leaves her with less hope, a small string pulling at her worries. She talks with Noru-sama frequently, learning more about the attacks. They even ask the survivors if they could see any of the attackers in hopes of any useful information, going door-to-door. But most refuse to relive the memories, and the rest aren't sure. At the end, Sakura is almost adamant on dropping the search altogether.

The rain, eventually, doesn't bother her as much as it did at the start of her stay, and she comes to find her nights with rain strangely peaceful. The rain, as deafening as it is in the village with its namesake, tunes out her own thoughts every night. She knows her thoughts can sometimes be too overwhelming and at the same time too hard to stop, so she appreciates the violent weather as her mission comes to an end.

Soon, she's due to leave in two days.

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Sasuke knocks on the Hokage tower with his knuckles, twice.

He had been woken up ten minutes ago by ANBU at his window, almost rushed to go dress up as soon as he was told he had to go over there, and jumped over rooftops with a trailing ANBU member behind him the whole trail up North. He had disappeared in a puff of smoke as soon as Sasuke stepped on the tower's first floor. And now he was in front of the door of the Hokage's office, who's the one that woke him up to begin with.

Needless to say, he's not in the greatest of moods this plain morning; he wishes, for a moment, that the older man inside the office notices the asperity in him and gets to the point.

"Come in," is all he hears behind the big double doors, and he doesn't waste time in entering said doors and closing them after him.

"Sasuke," Kakashi voices, looking up from the paperwork Sasuke just _knows_ he's pretending to read. "You got here pretty quickly. I should send more ANBU after you when you're needed more often."

Sasuke only hardens his mismatched gaze, looking at the change in his old teacher's mask, signalling a smile he's already used to picking apart.

"What do you need me for?"

Kakashi briefly laughs at his bluntness and gruffness, the biting tone in his raspy voice noticeable.

"I think you got off on the wrong foot this morning, Sasuke."

He only stares, patiently waiting for whatever he needs, stance more relaxed and mind refusing to take a seat in front of the large desk. He thinks it works, for Kakashi throws his hands up in defeat and looks at him still smiling under his mask.

"No need to look at me like that," he defends, "I just have to let you know some things."

Sasuke shifts his feet once and puts his hand in his pocket, inside the warmth of his trousers, before he speaks. "Which are?"

"I have a mission for you," Kakashi finally reveals, a glint in his dark eyes.

Sasuke's ears immediately perk up at this, sleep gone and face suddenly interested. Kakashi seems to notice this, for he laughs under his mask.

"Now now, don't get too excited. It's dangerous, S-ranked, and you're basically the only person who can do it." Kakashi then ruffles his papers and pushes them aside on the big table, opening drawers and cursing under his breath until he takes out a thin stack of papers from one of the table's drawers.

He hands him a small packet of papers, of four pages at most. Sasuke skims over the contents, frowning ever-so-slightly at whatever he doesn't understand.

"There's been plenty of rumours around town about the mysterious attacks all around the Fire Country. I'm sure you've heard of them, right?"

"Enough to know these people are untraceable and untouchable."

Kakashi nods, looking over his own thicker stack of papers, turning pages from time to time.

"So here's the thing, you have to find them, reach them, and bring them to Konoha. Only under extreme circumstances must you end them, understood?" Kakashi doesn't look up, so Sasuke doesn't nod, but they comprehend all the same.

"Nobody knows why they're this way, or why they're doing this, or what's their endpoint, so don't underestimate them. Everyone knows what they're capable of."

Sasuke finishes skimming through the packet and looks up at him, thinking over the details.

"Where was the last attack?" He asks, in order to start looking for them somewhere.

Kakashi also looks up and fixes him with a thoughtful stare.

"Around a week ago, they attacked Kusagakure, and that's about all I know. Before that, they were in Takigakure."

Sasuke registers this information faster than his ears hear it completely and his brain processes the outcome next. The criminals were in Waterfall and then moved down to Grass. It's simple.

"You've figured it out too, haven't you?" Kakashi has a proud tone to his voice that Sasuke doesn't like, but he nods nonetheless and speaks.

"Given that they only go to hidden villages around the Fire country, they're heading to Amegakure, by the looks of it."

"Exactly. You leave as soon as possible, hopefully today."

Sasuke nods and relaxes the hand he had in his pocket, formerly almost white from the exertion of his strong fist. He doesn't bother bowing, turns around, and grabs the handle of the door. But when he opens the door to step out and get ready for his mission, Kakashi makes his step falter and stop.

"Oh, and Sasuke, as a side note, Amegakure is where Sakura's mission is taking place," he says this as if it's a comment about the boring, sunny weather of Konoha's scalding hot summer. "She's to return in three days."

It's after a few heartbeats that Sasuke finds his voice again.

"Why do you tell me this?" He inquires, voice low and curious.

"Just thought you should know."

Sasuke likes to think that the reason for his sudden hurriedness in preparing his small bag is because he hasn't had a mission in a long time, and not because of a constricting feeling in his gut.

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The day is cloudy and grey, so much so that there isn't a trace of the sun or the blue of the sky.

Sakura wonders if the sky is as blue as Naruto's eyes in Konoha. She thinks of the sunny weather her home is sure to have right now during this time of the year; during summer, the air is so dry in the village that it's easier to walk around and enjoy the high temperatures. Every house has life, every villager has a smile present, every building has personality and history. During summer, Konoha beams with activity; every stand opens as soon as the sun comes up, and every once a week there is a general market day on the streets where the prices are lower, for people who can't afford to go inside the expensive supermarket stores, or that would rather buy the offers outside. During summer, Konoha is the heart of every kid playing on the streets, passing a ball around while dodging the usual passerby, or eating a cone of ice cream bought by mom or dad. During summer, Konoha is a place with the Will of Fire in every corner and avenue.

Here, life is very different. Sakura knows she won't miss Amegakure after today.

The air around her is heavy and moist, anchoring her feet to the ground and almost making it hard to move. These buildings don't have personality in them. These are dark, dead, moist, and eerie. The villagers are solemn, carrying burdens and weariness inside them. During summer in Amegakure, everything is still. There are no children outside playing, no stands with crowds of people inspecting the food, no ice cream cones being bought, and certainly no smiles. Especially, she thinks, because there is a huge impact from the attack almost a month ago. There are still people recovering, lands recovering, and a hospital being built.

The sky is completely clouded with gloom. Although there are no drops falling, she knows this is a yet, and a big one at that. It has been raining every day for weeks ever since she got here, and today shouldn't be any different.

But because it isn't raining at the moment, Sakura decides to make the best of her last day at Amegakure. She's walking through the streets with Hiro at her side. It's already evening, and she thinks to leave in an hour or two at most. If her trip back is anything like her trip to Ame, she's going to take three days at most—that is, if she stops to sleep here and there and eat little things, for which she has told herself not to do, and instead she'll keep pushing herself until she gets to Konoha in, hopefully, a day and a half.

The walk is as peaceful as it can get in the fading of the nonexistent sun, hidden by the clouds but visible enough to know it's sinking soon in the horizon. There is not one soul out on the streets for most of the trip. Although, the more they start nearing the Northern part of the village, the more they see Shinobi here and there, walking about. Some, if she looks up, are perched on rooftops and balconies for security purposes, scouting the area.

The squelching sound her boots make on the parts with wet terrain makes her cringe before she finds stone once again in her way.

"So, you're leaving today."

Sakura doesn't look at him, too engrossed with the patterns the stone leaves behind her every step forward.

"Yeah. I'm sorry for saying this but, I'm really not going to miss Rain's weather," she voices, looking at him briefly when he chuckles.

"I get that. It's really nothing like your village, I'm sure," he says, looking up at the sky and looking ahead of him from his height, "but I like it. Everything is always quiet here. I like the rain."

Sakura doesn't really understand how someone could live an entire lifetime in a place like this, day and night constantly. But if she'd been raised here, she understands that maybe then she would be able to get used to such weather. Just like she's used to her birthplace. Just like he's used to this.

"I wish I could say the same," she mutters under her breath, dropping her gaze to look at the stone patterns, but looking up when they bore her.

"Hey, I," she hears, turning her head to look at him with a curious look at the small frown marring his face, "I know it's only been three weeks, but... But I feel a connexion between us, don't you?" He looks at her, a small blush tinting his cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I... What I'm trying to say is that you..." With this, he stops walking altogether, crossing his arms over his chest in his characteristic manner, looking at her with an intensity she's trying to look away from. She has stopped walking too and is now standing in front of him. She doesn't want to hear his next words, because she has an idea now about what he's trying to say, and she doesn't want to hear it. But she hears it loud and clear all the same.

"I like you, Sakura," he blurts out, terse as though any more time wasted would make her change her mind. He shifts uncomfortably. "I know you're leaving today, but I feel like we could make this work. The hospital here won't be finished in a few months. Meanwhile, I can work at the hospital back in Konoha; we can make it work. What... What do you say?"

She wants to say many things, but she only thinks them. For starters, she hadn't felt a bit surprised. It's as if she already knew, deep deep inside, that this was bound to happen one day or the other. After all, she was a woman, and Hiro was a man. And they had spent four weeks together almost all the time. Safe for the nights, they were always around each other. So it's no wonder that the man had taken a liking to the pink-haired woman.

She takes a few seconds to look at him, like she's seeing him for the first time. He was probably in his thirties, but handsome all the more. Yes, she can tell he's not ugly, at all, actually. His features are too rough, and his physique is too robust and big. He's more than a head taller than her; his eyes are brown, and his hair is a snowy blond, very light and short, wavy.

But instead of rough features—instead of a squared jaw and prominent cheekbones, and an aristocratic nose—she wants to see a soft, defined jaw. She wants to see a softer face, with softer features, and darker past. She wants someone almost a head taller than her, still growing because of his younger age and trying to make it a head taller than her. She wants someone with an eye as dark as a midnight with no moon, and an eye as lilac as the flower field she had seen the day she said goodbye to the man she loves. The man she loves who is lean, who she's known for more than a decade, who she's in love with.

Hiro may be handsome and funny, and warm and expressive, but he's not the man she loves.

So she looks at this very different man, voice unwavering and firm. "Hiro, thank you," she lifts the corners of her lips slightly, sure to express her apologies to him, "but I can't. I'm sorry." She bows her head, mildly thinking about Sasuke. She doesn't see how this man, in front of her, hardens his eyes a little while looking at her with a calculating gaze.

A silence ensues in between them before he breaks it, voice hushed and quick.

"There's someone else..." Sakura's head snaps up at his straightforwardness, finding it hard to not widen her eyes in disbelief. "Am I mistaken?" A small frown is etched onto his lips, his brows. Sakura swallows.

She's ready to answer his hurt question and break his genuine feelings when she's knocked to the floor by a loud thunder to her left. She numbly feels Hiro fall to her right, too. (Only that it's not thunder that knocks her to the ground, and it takes her five seconds that feel like thirty minutes to realize it's an _explosion_ a few feet away from her.)

It takes her a handful of seconds to feel anything again.

They're here, is all she thinks; all that her mind lets her think; like a constant mantra inside her mind, the words repeat themselves over and over while she's on the ground, face lying partly on a small block of cement fallen from a building. They're here. The attackers are here.

All she can hear is nothing. It's a beep, a line of continuousness, a high sound that never changes. It hurts her ears to the point where she thinks she might go deaf, and it's only after it fades a little that she realises she's been trying to focus her sight to the broken view of smoke before her. The smoke reaches her and she feels a gut-wrenching feeling in her lungs. All is white noise around her.

Then, as if the world is moving too fast and she's moving too slow, she's being lifted by a pair of arms, tan and strong. She's being moved, but she doesn't know what's happening and she's disoriented and she's lost, so she just closes her eyes and lets the buzz in her ears dissipate, leaving behind something even worse, something that makes her wish the buzz was back: screams.

They sound all around her, the screams of panic are almost palpable and she feels coldness seeping into her back as she's being put down on stone, sitting with her back against a still-standing tower.

She opens her bright eyes again, glad that she can finally focus on something and gaze upon Hiro's troubled, bloodied face in front of her.

"-kura? Sakura, can you hear me now? Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can hear me." He quickly puts a hand on her cheeks, pulling down the skin below her eyes and coming closer to check her eyes. When she finally looks at him, and not _through_ him, he leaves her cheeks with a relieved sigh and gets out a kunai from his back pocket, putting it in front of her line of sight and moving it to the left and to the right slowly. "Follow the kunai with your eyes, Sakura."

She does, only because she knows this procedure and wants to make sure he knows she's better now, even if she feels herself cough one too many times as the smoke from the fallen debris filters through her brain. She finds her voice, although raspy, from somewhere within her.

"I'm okay, I'm alright. We were too close to the explosion, but thankfully we're alright," she puts her hands on the ground beneath her and starts to stand up. "Some people might be injured, let's go."

Once she stands, he does the same, and she knows he wants to voice his opinion about her, the concern in his eyes present. But he knows this is what they need to do, and so he nods. After his confession, she's glad he's the head doctor of the village; she's glad he knows what needs to be done, she's glad that he doesn't stand there like a puppy who's lost his bone. A moment later, he's out of sight, and Sakura rushes out of the alley he had brought her to.

More screams. They mix with the frantic beat of her heartbeat, pounding wildly in her ears, making her wish the white noise was back just to filter out the anguished panic around her.

She looks up and sees Shinobi rushing and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Beyond them, three bird summons are flying high in the sky.

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To Sakura, her health isn't more important than her patients'. She's known this little fact since she started as an apprentice under the tutelage of Tsunade. She knows this, and she accepts it, as this is how it should be for every medic nin out there. That is why when she rushes out of the alley, the first thing she does is look for survivors under the debris of the two fallen buildings. She doesn't know where Hiro is—probably out there notifying the officials around the village, giving the alert of yet another attack, letting every medic still at the tents to come aid them—and she doesn't find it in herself to care. After approaching a big boulder, she lifts it up with her superhuman strength and throws it aside, careful to not hit anyone in the process. When there's no one alive under that collapsed building, she runs to the one next to this one, slightly in better shape but with limbs sticking out of every boulder all the same.

Sakura lifts and throws and lifts and throws, until she feels the unprotected skin of her hands crack and seep blood out. But she can't stop—she feels chakra coursing through her body just like she feels the energy under the debris of this building. She's proved right when an arm shoots up and grabs hers, weakly pulling in some attempt to get out. She lifts the large piece of stone and sees a mangled mess of bodies in an untouched part of the ground. The building had collapsed, but it hadn't all fallen to the ground. There are two pieces of rubble in a sort of pyramid shape, supporting each other and leaving a space between them.

The boy, who had grabbed her arm, is gently pushed outside by Sakura. Next follows two young women, an old man, and three small girls. She heals what she can, paying more attention to the gashes than the light scratches, but lightly healing these too.

"Find shelter, move to another part of the village—they will probably attack the North only. Please, move!"

They don't need to be told twice. Seeing their home be destroyed, they don't spare a glance back when they start running in the opposite direction of the attack. Sakura does spare a glance at them, though, making sure their pace will prove to grant their survival.

Sakura starts running amongst the new people, rushing out of their homes and apartments, taking no more seconds to rush out of there. Sakura yells for them to move to the West, to the East, or even outside of the village. She yells to go to the fortified, grand shelter. She yells whatever is necessary until she feels her throat close up and dry up in this humid air.

She starts running again amidst the chaos, finding it hard to breathe when the situation gets the best out of her. People around her keep rushing out of their homes. She looks up to the sky and sees the three summons return in the distance—and she knows, she just _knows _that they're going to attack again. It's so clear in her mind that she stops running and stands in the middle of a narrow street, looking around her and trying to spot anyone who might be stranded—who might be affected first-hand.

She doesn't have much time to think.

A second explosion sounds next to her and she's ready enough this time to grab the nearest person to her and jump in the air. It happens to be a kid no more than ten years old, and Sakura feels his feral grip around her waist more than she hears his screams. It's horrible—appalling, cruel, awful, terrible—and as soon as she lands again she rushes to another section of the village, a safer section, and leaves him there with a woman that understands, even if her eyes show the ever-clear shock. The explosions are in the North and she leaves him near the never-ending line entering the shelter.

She returns to the attacked site fast enough to see how one of the men comes down from his summoning and moves at an incredible speed toward a woman who's too troubled with screaming at what looks like her little daughter, who looks like she doesn't want to move from her place—screaming at the top of her lungs and hugging a teddy bear, with eyes closed so hard she's probably seeing the eyes' veins right now. Sakura's sees how he moves, and in any other circumstance she couldn't have done it, but she's closer to this woman than he is, and so she risks it. She takes out one of her kunai—one of the five she had strapped to her thigh, thankfully, because all her other supplies were back in her tent—and moves forward. And a flash later the man is colliding his sword with her weapon of choice, steel against steel.

She tries to glance at his face, but he's already moving away from her and approaching her again so fast that she doesn't have time to think about his hooded appearance.

He tries to land a hit in her stomach, on her face; tries to elbow her in the bladder, the ribs; tries to kick her in the chest. But she dodges all of these attempts, too preoccupied dodging at his increasing speed to actually start attacking.

The woman once behind her is long gone, carrying her daughter down the streets and out of the battlefield.

His movements are almost too fast for her to follow, and she falters against her better judgement after ten minutes of continuous fighting. The sword graces her shoulder and cuts through the flesh in a clean line and she curses under her breath. He skirts across the ground, flipping backwards. And she wastes no more time—this was _it._ She puts her kunai back in her holster. Gathering chakra in her feet and hands, she protrudes scalpels from her fingers that can cut even the finest of metals, even the clumsiest fly in a room.

Moving with renewed speed, she races toward him, dodging his numerous senbon along the way. He rushes forward after a moment, too, sword in front of him and ready to strike.

She doesn't know how, but soon he has grabbed her by the hair; has pulled and has plunged his sword down, down, toward her exposed neck. But the sound of cutting flesh and blood pouring out is not her own. She doesn't know how, but the sound echoes in her ears as his head rolls on the ground, his detached body trembling and falling to the ground with a loud thud. All she knows is that his sword was too close to her throat, and that she did what she had to.

Her breathing is interrupted by the moment she almost chokes on the air, looking down at the head, whose eyes look straight ahead. At her, as if they knew her.

Sakura listens to another explosion farther away, and without any warnings, her stomach churns and she doubles over on the ground next to the lifeless body, retching and chest heaving up and down with a horrid feeling in her stomach. She throws up the lunch she had earlier, holding onto the wet ground as if it was her safe haven in this mess, letting a revolting sob escape her when she's done. She takes a breath and two more before she decides to take her eyes away from the head looking straight ahead.

She stands up, wiping her lips with the hem of her light pink shirt, sure to leave a putrid stain behind.

As soon as she gets a hold of herself and her world isn't spinning anymore, she takes a step forward. Then another, then another. And then she sprints toward the sounds of people screaming, farther ahead. It almost sounds familiar after an hour since the attack started off. They are the same sounds, over and over and over in her head, and she wishes they would finally stop.

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She finds another of the attackers, completely hooded, looking more like a shadow as he moves around the people and slaughtering wherever and whenever he pleases, as soon as she reaches the mass of people letting out heart-wrenching screams of terror. To no avail, a woman suffers the blow of a senbon on her jugular, and Sakura locks eyes with him as soon as the woman drops lifeless on the ground.

Next to the woman, there are three bodies of different Shinobi—ANBU, she notes—spread out around her. Sakura inspects the area and notices that at least ten more ANBU are on the ground, dead and forgotten.

_Just how strong was this guy?_

Sakura does not wish to fight once again; firstly because she's not sure she can take another one of the attackers all on her own. Mostly, because she sees there are people in the space of what looks like to be a square at the village—a grand, ample circular space surrounded by buildings that are quickly falling apart. Mostly, because she sees fallen bodies around the square, some of who are not completely dead. Some people are still alive, struck and injured but _alive_, and that's all that matters to Sakura at the moment. And it takes all of the restraint inside her to not _rush_ to the convulsing man a few feet away from her.

But this hooded person feet away from her has set his trained eyes on her, noticing she's a Kunoichi and racing toward her at top speed. This is why she doesn't have time to assist everyone there. She thinks, in the midst of her mind racing with panicked thoughts, she sees one of the six medics in the village dropping from one fallen tower to inspect a body that looks eerily familiar to Hiro, but it is lost to her as the assailant reaches her.

She takes out two kunai and he takes out two kunai, and the fight begins with a strangled cry from her form. Their weapons clash against each other at least three times before she jumps away and gathers chakra in her fist. When she comes down, the ground shudders and breaks beneath their feet. Close enough to catch him by surprise, but far enough to not engulf the several still-alive people on the ground and the remaining people rushing out of the scene.

When Sakura comes down once again, in the middle of the dent she has created, she sees him appear in front of her, hands forming one single sign: snake. She's not familiar with this Jutsu and he's spewing out words she doesn't understand to the air.

"Doton: Daichi Ganshō!"

Two buildings start moving closer together at an incredible speed, caging her in and trying to crush her. She doesn't think twice and grabs every person that's in between the buildings, bringing them outside and coming back again for more people, moving as fast as she can. She grabs, lastly, an injured Shinobi and feels both of the buildings touch her body. Sakura, in her stupor, barely has time to jump out of the way, but manages well, landing across the square and breathing erratically. She lets the man down behind her.

She doesn't understand, she doesn't know why, why there was someone with the Earth affinity attacking the hidden villages around Fire. Why, when there were barely any Earth style users left.

In a moment of weakness, her stomach churns again with the need to bring something up and out of her mouth. She's sweating profusely and her skin is clammy, and she wonders what the fuck is _wrong_ with her because this is nowhere near normal; this isn't supposed to happen. She heaves, the air barely coming out of her body as she chokes on it, huffing and puffing and swearing on the mightiest of the gods. This is not how she's going to die.

When she looks up and notices the Earth user coming closer to her, walking with no haste when he sees her distressed state, he takes his time. And she decides dropping to the ground to vomit is not going to do well to either of them. So she takes out two kunai once again with shaky hands, and stands in a defense position. Daring him with her eyes to come any closer.

Their weapons clash again and she sweeps her leg under his; he jumps before she gets the chance to and then he's swinging both of his arms toward her. She dodges and he dodges and they both attack. But then she coughs, once, and finds herself staring at the dark blood she's spilled out of her mouth and onto the ground beneath her trembling legs.

And then she sees it. She's not fast enough, and gazes at the two kunai in his hands in slow motion, because she knows she's not going to be fast enough and she's going to get stabbed, twice; once in her chest and once in her abdomen. She knows as they come closer to her person, closer and closer and closer—but then it never comes to happen.

In less than a second, she hears a growl, sees a blur in front of her, and feels a warm body keeping her safe. She hears the familiar sword disarm the man of his two kunai in less than she can gasp. And soon, he drops his sword and summons Chidori in his hand, plunging it swiftly into the sick man's chest with an uncharacteristic rage in his movements.

It's a moment of heavy breathing and shock around them before he takes out his hand, stained thickly with blood. The man falls. Sasuke turns to her and she wants nothing more than to take one step closer to him and hug him, because it's been a horrible four weeks and she's missed him so damn much and he looks so angry with the Sharingan activated and air quickly coming out of his nose but so beautiful and everyone is dying and there's still one man left flying over their heads with probably more bombs waiting to drop over the village and she's just _so, so glad_ that he's here.

She feels a hand on her sweaty forearm, but her vision is blurring against her own commands.

Before she can smile at him with the thanks she feels in the deepest part of her soul, a searing pain tears through her shoulder, spreading to her whole body in a mere second, taking her completely by surprise. Only that not really. Her brain processes the last hour like a broken film is played before her.

The sword. The shoulder. The first attacker she'd fought.

That sword had had poison, but as she spreads what little chakra she has left through her system, she knows this poison is unknown to her. Most poisons can't do anything to her as Chiyo and Tsunade had made sure once to make her immune. But this one—this one she's clueless about. And she hadn't expected it when she knows she should have; when she knows she should have checked her system before moving on, before emptying her stomach and acting so careless. The need to puke and the clammy skin and the shaking make sense now, her body is just trying to fight off the poison before it overtakes her.

Through the pain against her shoulder, she hears a piercing scream tear through the air, and she realizes with dashing agony that it's her own.

Before she can touch the ground, a bloody arm is holding her warm body against a colder one. Her skin is burning, her legs are giving out, and she looks at him through hooded eyes that scream of hurt and pain. Because if her body can't fight the poison—if she's not strong enough to escape this—she wants him to be the last thing she looks at. At least now, at least in this moment of torment.

There is something akin to terror in his eyes, but it's gone sooner than she wants to, because numbness spreads through her body, expanding through her like the poison, and she's falling.

She wants to tell him to take her to Hiro, to take her to any other medic around that can try to take out the poison—because she may not be immune to it like she is to most poisons and she may not know it, but maybe the other medics are familiar with it because, for some reason, the poison originates in one of their villages—but her world turns to black before she can open her lips to speak.


	13. The Rise

**Chapter 13**

_**\- The Rise -**_

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Sakura wakes up in steps.

First, her brain registers background noise, far away as if she's underwater, against the back of her consciousness. There are voices coming to life near her, but they sound so muffled that she can't discern anything; can't pick anything apart. But she's not alone, _that_ she knows.

Next, she races through the thoughts in her mind. Realising she's in a state of consciousness, in a state of being awake, she knows she's not dead, and relief almost pours throughout her whole body if she wasn't feeling numb all over.

The next thing that happens processes faster through her jumbled thoughts. Her eyes twitch imperceptibly, toes moving languidly and mouth pursed into a grimace. Feeling in her body comes back to her like an expected slap to the face and she feels the voices intensify as well, knocking at her head with pounding clarity.

Sakura wakes up slowly.

"She couldn't know-"

"I wasn't there-"

"Could somebody get a medic over here-"

"I'm sorry, his injuries were too grave-"

She opens her eyes, surprising herself when the movement comes effortlessly.

Her vision is blurry and the images all blend into one colour, for a minute, while she's trying to take everything in as fast as she can, like a starving child.

When her eyesight focuses, she's looking at a ceiling. It's far away and tall, almost endless against the white lights, beckoning her to go back into a deep slumber. But she doesn't. She wills her head to turn to the side, slightly, and gaze at where the loud voices are coming from.

People rush from this place to the other, almost running and trying to save as many injured as possible. There are loud voices cascading from every wall around her, making her twitch against her better judgement, reverberating against the room and coming back to her in the form of yells and pained moans. There is a certain panic in the air that only makes her all the more sure about the attack, and that it probably had just ended or was probably still going on. She can't really know about this, and she can't find out, for she doesn't find strength to part her lips. Her eyelids feel heavy, as if holding her eyes open is a task that requires much concentration, and her body aches strongly.

With this understanding comes a shiver down her spine. The recollection of her last memories comes rushing back to her quickly. The first explosion, the lives lost and the lives she could save, the head rolling to the ground and the lifeless eyes staring at her and through her, the poison spreading through her body slowly, the second attacker ready to impale her through the chest and the stomach, the gasp escaping her a second later. _Sasuke. _The way he had held her, the brief horror in his otherwise calm eyes as she slipped away, the certainty that he was the last image she had before falling unconscious.

She's at the shelter.

Only that this time, she's not the medic running around and inspecting people. Only that this time, she's on a mat on the side of the shelter, a corner that's away from everyone but still close enough to look at the closest person lying down with clear acknowledgement—a man lying down on a mat a few feet away from her, his stomach open and his eyes staring at the ceiling, convulsing. Sakura has the urge to stand up and help him before the man is forced out of her view when a medic blocks the sight.

"Sakura."

And then she notices a blur obscuring the light of the shelter as it hovers over her head. She has to will her eyes to focus again, blinking rapidly but with palpable tiredness in the movement.

She recognises it like she would recognise her own face. It's clear in her brain, unconscious and familiar against her eardrums.

When the voice doesn't spit anything else out, she tilts her head back and looks at him in the eyes, despite the amount of force she has to put in the rotation. A small smile is forced out of her chapped, dry lips when mismatched eyes stare back at her warmly.

"Sa..."

She can't finish the raspy word, for a pain shoots through her lungs and she coughs, emitting a groan only when she stops. She dimly thinks she feels the back of Sasuke's hand touching her forehead, a chill spreading through her being, but she doesn't get to think about it for much longer as a bottomless black welcomes her body once more.

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Sasuke curses under his breath as he quickly gets up, clenching his fists as he looks around the packed establishment. Giving the shivering body below his feet one last look, he turns around and walks hurriedly to the first ninja with glowing hands he can spot.

The young man with blue hair is concentrated on the frail body of a pregnant woman under his professional hands, but he still lifts his eyes as soon as Sasuke drops to his level and opens his mouth to ask for help. It's as if he knows the panicked look he gives him, for before he can speak he's interrupted.

"What is it?" The dark-skinned man asks brusquely, diverting his cold, calculating eyes toward the unconscious woman lying on a mat in front of them. Sasuke clenches his jaw until he feels his teeth protest at the uncomfortable pressure.

"Haruno Sakura. She's unwell," he briefly explains, eyes hardening at the sigh escaping the medic's full lips.

"I'm sorry, I have seven more people waiting to be healed after this woman. And the number just keeps increasing."

"She woke up and fainted soon after, can't you go for a moment," it's more of a command than a question, and it comes out raspier than he expected. The man finishes with the woman and moves on to the being in her abdominal region.

"And that is _normal_, Uchiha. I already did my best taking out the poison, but now all that's left is to wait." The calm voice makes him flinch, white knuckles against his fist making it harder to think clearly.

He stands up briskly when he just _knows_ this doctor won't help him further, and moves through the maze of bodies on the floor, looking at all the available but few doctors in the place. He sees them, but he gets the idea that they won't help him either. A long line of people follow each medic and the wails and moans make Sasuke's shoulders sag and his fist relaxes considerably in defeat. They wouldn't help him. They wouldn't help _her_.

They wouldn't help the woman who an hour ago he thought was dying. He thinks back to the events that transpired from the moment he stepped into the soon-to-crumble Amegakure to the present. He remembers running through the bombs and the people without a second thought. All he could think about was Sakura's chakra, weak and fluctuating against his mind. It was as if she was going to give up; he knew she was fighting the moment he stepped through the gates. His legs had been burning, compliment of running nonstop for twenty-four hours.

The moment he had stepped in the village's square, his blood had run cold. He barely saw the way Sakura's eyes widened with certainty at the event that was about to happen, for all he had been able to see with painful clarity was the slow movement of the hooded figure in front of her, two kunai in hand. It had been playing in his mind like a broken film, in slow motion and in detail, courtesy of his blood-red eyes.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed watching as the body of the assailant fell to the ground with a thud. The victory of killing him hadn't been long-lived; less than five minutes later, he had been running toward the shelter with Sakura pressed to his chest, a hand on the small of her back and a scowl in his expression.

Sasuke closes his eyes for a moment before he turns around and walks calmly in Sakura's direction.

On the way back, he absentmindedly gazes down at his sole arm tainted with dry blood. Up to his elbow.

That's why he doesn't notice the body crouched down at Sakura's side until he's a few steps away.

He looks over him with a narrow of his distrustful eyes, but the fact that there's someone with Sakura doesn't make him the least surprised; after all, she is very well-known in the Shinobi world as one of the best healers around. From this angle, though, he can make out the fingers on her cheek and the other hand putting away her bangs from her pained eyes. Blood coils inside him and he doesn't waste time in slamming him to the floor.

The man sputters and releases a weak cry as his injured head slams not-too-gently to the floor. His body is full of bandages and there are signs of blood on his face, and Sasuke's voice is low and guttural when he speaks.

"Who are you?"

The man chokes down a gasp when Sasuke's eye flashes with an unforgiving red, the other a hypnotising lilac, and he lifts up his muscled arms in front of his face in defence.

"Hey, okay, let's not cause any more casualties here."

Sasuke's grip tightens on the man's shirt.

"Alright, alright, look. I could ask you the same thing. Let me go and we can talk," he smiles.

With a quick look to the sleeping woman next to them, Sasuke releases his grip against his wishes and sits with his back against the wall—making Sakura's head rest next to his thighs, perpendicular to his legs. Sasuke puts his hand on the ground next to her face unconsciously.

"Speak," he demands.

The blond-haired man drops his nervous smile and opts for a more serious look, overall just tired. He moves closer to Sakura and Sasuke's jaw clenches, watching his movements meticulously from the wall. When the man sits across from him, the only thing that separates them is Sakura.

"I'm Kore Hiro, head doctor in Amegakure. I've been with Sakura as a medic nin since she arrived a few weeks ago; I was... I was just trying to help."

Sasuke relaxes a bit as this information seeps in, the only word screaming in his brain being _help. _Despite the fact that this is a doctor and that he's going to help her, it doesn't make Sasuke trust him in the slightest. The image of his fingers gently tracing her cheek is yet again burning against his eyelids. Still, he speaks.

"Uchiha Sasuke," he says, quietly. Kore Hiro's eyes widen considerably, hinting that he knew about him.

"_The _Uchiha Sasuke? You were her teammate once, right?"

Giving away no answers, Sasuke deactivates his Sharingan and looks down at Sakura, her skin becoming paler by the minute.

"Help her," he mutters, not looking up at him.

Hiro's eyes roam over Sasuke suspiciously, but he moves closer to Sakura all the same. His hands start glowing a calm green over her chest and no more than one minute later his hands stop glowing.

"Who healed her? Whoever tried to get out the poison from her system didn't finish," he says, his eyes finding Sasuke's. "There's still some left, and it has reached her lungs."

Sasuke's eyebrows draw together in a frown, lips pursed and hard eyes looking at the blond. "Then take it out," he spits, way calmer than the flutter of worry he feels inside him.

"Right," his hands glow green once again.

Sasuke stares at Sakura's frown and her sickly pale skin for what seems like a lifetime, not paying attention in the slightest at what this Kore Hiro is doing. His fingers twitch when she moves her head toward him and a rose strand of hair lands on top of his hand. He doesn't move it.

His eyes linger on her face until all he can see are her pink eyelashes, the gentle curve of her pink eyebrows, the heart-shaped jaw, her pert and delicate nose, her usually coloured cheeks now almost white. He lets his eyes fall to her lips, now with a shade of purple.

"There, it's all out."

The masculine voice brings Sasuke out of his trance and he looks up to stare into brown eyes. It feels like it's been an hour since he started healing her, but Sasuke isn't really sure. It could've been minutes.

"She'll break a sweat soon, and a fever shouldn't be too shocking, but she'll be fine. A few more minutes and her lungs would have collapsed," he explains, an edge to his voice that Sasuke discerns as sadness.

He nods, emitting his thanks in the curt movement and not letting a shiver run down his spine at the notion of what would have happened to her, but didn't.

"Uchiha," the man clears his throat and looks away, "I was... On the battlefield when Sakura started fighting the enemy. It's a miracle he hadn't killed me, really. I was barely breathing on the ground when a medic nin came to my aid."

Sasuke doesn't know what he's getting at; throughout his short speech, the Uchiha didn't really let his mind pay attention. His next words, though, leave him listening.

"Thank you for saving her. I mean it."

Sasuke's eyes flicker toward the woman next to him, watching as a light pink finally settles on her cheeks and as her skin looks warmer than mere minutes ago; watching as her breaths come out evenly in and out of her nose; watching as her lips leave the purple colour behind.

"Likewise."

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The second time Sakura wakes up it's still bright in the shelter.

The bright lights dance over her eyelids and she winces slightly at the unexpected illumination. Surely, it was bound to be nighttime by now, right? Sakura doesn't know. Her sense of time is as clouded as her vision when she slowly opens her eyes. It's all blurry for ten seconds. Then, the bright circles take shape after a few heartbeats, turning into objects and people soon enough.

She blinks a few times at the thing in front of her eyes, a few inches away, and the strands of pink hair covering it.

It's a hand.

Sakura frowns as confusion settles over her features, taking notice of the blood smearing over it and along the arm.

Her eyes trail from the fingertips to where the blood ends and then beyond that, until she reaches a face that brings a small smile to her lips. His eyes are looking straight ahead, glazed over and lost in thought.

She finds her voice easier than she had expected. If she really thinks about her condition, her chest feels weightless and her body only aches dully. She also isn't as cold as the last time she woke up, and there is barely any pain.

"Sasuke-kun."

The murmur makes Sasuke's head snap from the people on mats ahead of him to her face.

"Sakura."

She purses her lips, slightly disappointed when his hand moves away from her face as soon as the words leave his lips.

With a groan, she looks away from him and tries to lift herself up on her elbows. She doesn't let herself notice the large hand on her back, guiding her up lest she loses her balance.

She manages to sit and she drags her hands down her hair as it gets in her line of vision. She looks around.

She recognises all the medic nins that are still going from person to person. They're still healing and she takes a moment to inspect the place. She turns her head toward Sasuke with questions plaguing her mind and she almost gasps at the intensity in his eyes, but stops herself before she lets it out. She gulps.

"What happened? Where..." Her voice trails off when she pieces things together in her mind. "I killed one of the Shinobi, and then you killed the second one, but..."

"I took care of the last one," Sasuke interrupts her, serious and an arm hanging from his knees, knees bent in front of him.

Sakura widens her eyes. "You killed him?"

Sasuke shakes his head in negation. "He's on his way to Konoha right now. Kakashi ordered to at least leave one of them alive."

Sakura shifts her gaze and nods a little, thinking over all that's happened and not knowing anything that _actually_ had happened after she ended up here. But before she can question her curiosity, a voice makes her head raise.

"Sakura!"

She meets his warm brown eyes and she smiles. He's rushing toward her with a smile of his own.

"For a moment there I thought you hadn't made it," she says as soon as he's sitting down in front of her.

He sways a hand in front of his blood-marred face. "Pfft, as _if_. A bunch of ninja rebels can't take this down." He points his thumbs toward himself and Sakura can't help but let out a laugh.

She coughs.

"Oh, hold on."

Sakura can't say anything before he stands and walks away, disappearing through the mass of people filling the shelter. When he returns, it's with a glass of water. He sits again.

"Here, drink up," he offers. He doesn't have to say it twice; she grabs the cup like her life depends on it and drinks the flavourless liquid as if it's the best thing in the world.

"Thank you," giving him back the glass, she doesn't waste time on getting answers. "What happened?"

He lets out a laugh and crosses his arms. "Hell, a lot of shit has happened, Sakura. Have you seen this place? Last time it wasn't as full. Now it's almost double the people."

Sakura looks around until her eyes land on Sasuke's stiff form a few feet away, against the wall and looking straight ahead. She looks back at Hiro.

"I see. How much time has passed?" She asks, suddenly aware of the windowless place.

"I went outside a few minutes ago, it's around two in the morning," he explains.

Sakura nods and lets a tired sigh escape her lips. It was around five when the bombs started to drop.

She lets herself stare at the blond man, taking in his poorly healed bruises and the bandages that looked like they were hastily put on. Her heart does a flip when she remembers his confession, and how she had rejected him for him to save her from danger's way. Had he healed her too?

"Well, I'll get going. See you around."

And with that, he grabs the used cup, stands, and leaves without even a glance back.

Sakura hears a soft cough to her left and she looks around her to Sasuke. With a small blush dusting her cheeks at the realisation, she gasps and covers her mouth.

"Sasuke-kun! Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you two. He's a friend I met since I came here, a medic. The head of the hospital here at Ame. Well, if there was a hospital to begin with, but the day I came here they also attacked and demolished the building. What was I saying again?" She rubs a hand on her chin, tapping. "Oh! Right. Hiro has been very helpfull, sorry again I forgot to introduce you."

Sasuke looks at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"Aa."

With a small smile, Sakura turns her head around again and looks at several people sleeping, and some others asking for help.

Sakura wraps her arms around her middle as she stares down at her blanket pooling around her legs. She should help. She's a doctor, so she should be up and about, trying to heal as many people as she can even with her low chakra levels. She could at least try to heal as many as she could. She bites her lip and makes to stand too, following Hiro's footsteps, but a hand at her forearm stops her. Her green eyes stare at his darker ones, finding it hard to think when he's moved to kneel right beside her. He retreats his hand fast enough, and a breath leaves her lips.

"What is it?" She asks.

"It's best if you rest," he says, quietly.

"Rest?" She exclaims with the same kind of tone. "Look around, Sasuke-kun. As long as there are people injured, it's my duty to help."

Sasuke's face remains passive and tranquil when he answers, but there is a demanding edge to his deep voice.

"_You_ are injured, Sakura. If you can't take care of yourself, you can't take care of others." She stares at him, wide-eyed and stupefied as he looks down at the mat. A few breathless breaths pass before Sakura hears his even quieter voice again.

"If Kore hadn't been there, your lungs would have collapsed. You would've died." The biting tone leaves his voice and instead is replaced with a softer one, gentler and so much like the Sasuke she knows at heart.

Her brain registers what he says quickly, and she grabs his hand before she can overthink it. His wide eyes look up at her and she finds a smile come out from under the self-conscious thoughts, trying not to notice his tense shoulders.

"When do we leave?"

"At dawn."

"Then we'll leave at dawn. Let me heal whoever I can in the meantime, please. Sleep can wait."

With a reassuring squeeze to his hand, she stands up and walks toward whoever still needs help.

Sasuke stares at her back and then down to his hand, a tingling feeling pressing on his chest.

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With a hug, Sakura says goodbye to Hiro. He makes her promise she will visit once everything is reconstructed, and she makes him promise the same thing. He gives her and Sasuke a cloak for the rain before leaving, taken from the storage room upstairs. Sasuke thanks him with a nod and Sakura with a smile.

At the crack of dawn, Sakura closes the door of the shelter behind them, careful not to make noise at everybody sleeping inside.

She wraps her cloak closer to her form, pulling the hood forward at the unforgiving drops of water falling from the sky, heavy and thick. The terrible weather doesn't compare at all to the destruction around them, though. Fallen buildings, towers, debris all around them, bodies scattered around the streets and blood being washed away by the rain down the roads make her blood run cold.

Sakura stares at the destruction for as long as her heart lets her. Sasuke, beside her, does the same. He's looking at everything with a pensive look on his face, a somber expression passing over it. The ambience is one like the aftermath of war.

"Let's go," he says, and if she wasn't trained to be a skilled Kunoichi, she wouldn't have heard his quiet command over the harsh rain.

Glancing back once, they jump over the debris, out of the gates, and start running toward Konoha. Toward home.


	14. The Usual

**A/N: **Waaah, one chapter two days ago and one today? Yep. Enjoy and comment, pretty pls.

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**Chapter 14**

_**\- The Usual -**_

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The rays of light filter through his worn out, navy blue curtains, cutting through the dark colour and spreading throughout his room like an unexpected guest. It hits his eyelids and moves through these too, reaching his tired eyes as a silent demand. _Wake up._

Sasuke has been awake for quite some time now, though, way before the sun came up behind the village's many trees and over his apartment building. He stifles a groan, moving his face around until he's face-down on his pillow, well aware that it's a little past ten. He has been awake, yes, but with no desire to stand up and get on with the day. Just yesterday he had slept on the unforgiving ground of the forest for a bland three hours before it was his time to set up watch, giving Sakura another three hours to sleep before they left again. It was this what was almost giving him a headache right now—the fact that before arriving at Amegakure, he hadn't slept in twenty-four hours, and after leaving said city a day later, he had slept three hours before reaching Konohagakure in two days. So all in all he had slept three hours in four days.

If he really lets his mind wander, he doesn't want to get up at all. He'd rather stay in bed all day, at least for today.

A loud knock at his door makes a dull throb make its way inside his temple.

"Sasuke, open up! We're going training!"

With a small sigh and a head-count from ten to zero, he sits up and rubs whatever sleep there's still left on his face away. The loud voice makes him groan with the telltale signs of murder in his eyes.

Standing up, he quickly changes out of his casual, sleeping trousers to his usual, dark and loose bottoms and a dark shirt with long sleeves.

He hears another set of knocks against the entrance's door, rattling and shaking the walls with its rumble.

"I know you're in there, bastard! I can feel your chakra so open the door right now!"

His friend makes him flinch before he grabs his Katana and opens the door in a brusque manner, startling the blond in front of him and moving the old hinges on the side of the old door.

He doesn't say anything with his mouth, but he's sure to deliver his annoyed scowl to the blond in the form of a facial expression all the same. He opens his mouth, slowly, finding the wave of heat from Konoha's summertime rush past him and into the otherwise cold apartment with air conditioning. It makes his skin clammy.

"What."

"Well, don't you look like shit." Sasuke looks at Naruto's smile and beaming persona change into a surprised look, brought back at the dark-haired man's probably dishevelled appearance. "You came back yesterday, am I right? You can tell me all the juicy details from the mission later, but let's go train now!" He says as he grabs Sasuke's forearm with little to no problem. Sasuke whisks it away just as easily.

"Tch, I wanna hear you talk when I beat you to a pulp," he mutters under his breath, seething while he locks his apartment and jumps down to the ground.

"Hey! Who said you're gonna win?"

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Sakura walks out of the clinic with a smile plastered along the soft curve of her pink lips, a satisfied gleam in her eyes making itself present to any and every onlooker passing down the brightly lit hallway where she stands. Sakura wasn't the head of the hospital, but she was Tsunade's next in line for the title. Even so, she did own one of the wards: Konoha's Mental Health Clinic for children that she had fought to open the moment the Fourth Shinobi War had ended.

As soon as she had proposed the idea, years ago, everyone whose ears listened to the news was all for it. These kids that were terribly affected by a war that hurt so many, now healing and slowly letting go of the horrors of war. All of the other Shinobi wars had left people devastated and bereft of any tranquillity, but she knows it's the kids who are always affected the most. Because when they grow up, they are haunted by the lives lost. Sakura wanted to put an end to this scarring, and so she proposed the idea, gone through the process of acceptance, built it with the help of others, and opened it.

Of course, she is no doctor of the mind, so other people way more qualified for the job help the kids and work with them. Sakura checks on them and makes sure everything is going up to par from time to time in between the lines of her already hectic schedule.

Squaring her shoulders and stuffing her hands in the insides of her white coat's pockets, she walks down the corridor and through another set of double doors. It's almost two more double doors later that she stops in her tracks, a sudden gasp leaving her parted lips.

A man is being rushed along the hall at an alarming rate on a hospital bed while there are two nurses at his side.

This doesn't shock the pink-haired medic that much. After all, she was a doctor and had been for almost a decade. The number of casualties she had seen paled with the injuries seen on this whining man. It was not out of the blue to see someone rushing down the hallways on their way to the ER. Sakura knows this, she has seen it, she is used to being on the rush, to think quickly and steady her hands with every patient.

But this man approaching her—this man who is staining the sheets under him like spilt drink on coffee tables—makes her flinch considerably.

He's missing his left arm.

What's left of it is hanging down the side of the bed, blood red and flowing recklessly. Sakura's eyes widen when a thought strikes her hard, knocking against her brain when it's no longer forgotten and lost, but found in the confines of her memories.

It's as if there's nothing else, but that thought, leaving her breathless.

She lifts her head and turns her body to the right, intent on taking steps and walk toward a certain woman's office. But before she can even take one step forward, she's shoved a folder to her chest by a hurried nurse.

"Sakura-san! Hurry, please! He's losing too much blood," the brown-haired nurse says, her words leaving behind nothing as she rushes past Sakura, and so does the man at her side. Sakura looks at him and looks back at the path to Tsunade's office, knowing full well that there are more medics ready to attend this poor man on the ER floor.

Nevertheless, she hurries down the halls, following the squeaky sound of the bed's wheels until she arrives at one of the pristine rooms of the ER. The thoughts are lost to her as she opens the door, her hands glowing as soon as she steps inside.

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His breaths come out in chunks, rapid and in sync to the frantic beating of his heart, reverberating against his eardrums and making him glare at the person on the other side of the clearing.

Three trees are separating them, the roots sticking up and making him drop his shoulders at the sudden illusion of protection. In the few seconds he has before the next attack, Sasuke tries to regain his breath and control his breathing. His face is dripping with beads of sweat, making him squint under the unforgiving sun above them and raise his hand to wipe at his brow.

He bends down slightly to grab his sword, stained with dirt and blood and sweat. Standing at his full height, he inspects the blur of orange on the other side of the clearing, way beyond the trees and in the same state he's in. The Sharingan shines around him and he grabs the object in his hand a little tighter when Naruto appears in front of him.

He ducks at the incoming punch, not at all dazzled that Naruto still attacks full-front since they were placed on Team Seven, the memory making him shake his head in disapproval. He never learns.

He swipes his leg under the blond, punches, moves away, comes right back at him again, splits one of the trees already on the ground in half, and ducks again. He finally lands a punch to Naruto's stomach, and this one makes him spit bloody saliva out. He watches as his body plummets and crashes against the rough bark of one of the fallen trees, and he would feel a rush of adrenaline inside him if it weren't for the detail that it's just a clone.

Naruto disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving nothing behind and making Sasuke look around him with his expert eyes.

Twenty Naruto clones run at him in different directions. Up, down, left, right. It makes it no fun when he can discern the real Naruto in the crowd with the help of his Sharingan, but he still plays along. Swiping at the clones with the razor sharp Katana, he watches as clouds of smoke collect around him.

The fluid movements are stopped when he drops the object and starts making very familiar signs.

"Katon: Gōkakyū no jutsu!"

A large ball of fire comes out of his mouth, directed to the leftover clones, but specifically to the real Naruto hidden in the masses.

There are several sounds around him, and after a few endless seconds, his technique finally dies out.

The trees that were once around them are burnt to a crisp, the clones are nowhere to be found, and Naruto comes at him from the sky so fast that he has no time to notice the burn on the side of his lips.

Sasuke has him pinned to the ground with a hand around his throat before he can realise what's happened. Naruto looks up at him, flabbergasted, a frown coming up to replace the surprised look.

"What's wrong? Having trouble speaking?" He smirks, noting how, despite his victory, the damage on his body is the same as on Naruto's.

Naruto's eyes widen. _I wanna hear you talk when I beat you to a pulp._

"Shut it, bastard. You obviously cheated!" Pointing an accusing finger up at Sasuke's face, he grabs his hand and moves it away from his throat. They stand up.

"How did I cheat, idiot?"

"You just- You just did!"

"I think you don't want to accept I won."

With a shriek from Naruto's part and a smirk from Sasuke's, the world keeps spinning on its axis as usual.

"You certainly did not."

"Hn."

They start walking, and not two steps after, Naruto clutches at his stomach and moans in pain.

"Hey, I was gonna propose going to Ichiraku's, but we should heal our injuries first."

Sasuke looks back at him and their eyes meet. They both nod at each other and jump out of view in unison.

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"Come in."

Sakura opens the door and is greeted with the sight of her once teacher. She smiles.

"Tsunade-sama, good afternoon," with a bow, she sits across from the desk where the blonde sits. Tsunade warmly smiles back at her.

"Sakura, it's been a while, with that mission and all," she says, stacking some papers and putting them in a drawer, waving a hand in front of her face to accentuate the long time.

"Yes, I missed being here," she runs a hand down her hair and ties the upper portion of it in a ponytail, keeping her bangs away from her face but still letting her hair flow down until it reaches her shoulder blades.

"I'm sure of it," Tsunade leans back on her chair and inspects her only student. "The Hokage told me you ran into trouble back in Ame, is that true?"

Sakura sighs.

"The first day at the village, there was an attack. And the day I was supposed to come back there was another attack. We healed as many as possible but there were also many casualties. I killed the first assailant when my life was compromised, but I'm lucky Sasuke-kun arrived before I could receive a fatal blow with the second assailant."

With a finish, Sakura's head bows and she looks down deep in thought, recalling the events that had transpired in the last month. When she looks back up, Tsunade is looking at her with a pensive look, a look that makes Sakura's cheeks take on a light pink.

"I see, I should thank the Uchiha next time I see him, yes?"

Sakura's cheeks flush redder and she only has the decency to nod.

"Well, I'd love to dig deeper into this knight in shining armour rescuing you, but I have to head down to the OR soon."

Sakura's eyes widen and she looks up to stare at her ex-mentor, the words haunting her for a long time coming out of her lips before the blonde has time to stand from her seat.

"Actually, Tsunade-sama, I came here to let you know about something."

Tsunade's eyebrow raises questioningly.

"What is it?"

Sakura releases a breath.

"Remember a few months ago, back in winter, when you... Told me Sasuke-kun's prosthetic arm was finished?"

Tsunade sighs, pushes the chair back and stands up, looking at Sakura with a knowing look before she leans her hip against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know you never told him, if that's what's bothering you. I thought you had just forgotten."

At Sakura's startled look, she continues.

"I called him to my office a few days after I told you, seeing as I wasn't getting any answers from you, and we discussed the issue," she says, opening a drawer on the wall to Sakura's right.

"What?"

Tsunade looks back at her for a moment before getting out a few folders and putting them close to her chest. Sakura's eyes leave hers and find the floor before she looks up again. "Well, when's the transplant?"

A sombre look crosses the blonde's face, making Sakura's chest tighten and her pulse throb against her palms, which she squeezes through the fists on her lap.

"He refused the arm, Sakura. There was no talking him out of it. Sorry," she mutters, opening the door of her office and stepping out and into the hall.

Sakura stays seated until she feels time pass slowly, so agonisingly slowly that she has to force all the jumbled thoughts out of her spiralling brain. Why would he say no? How would he pass such opportunity? He could have an arm as close to his other arm as it could get, and for free. He could replace the hollow emptiness every time he puts a long-sleeve shirt on. He could spar better, he could fight with both hands, he could dress up with two hands, he could cook with two hands again. Why wouldn't he want to have it the easier way on all those things? Why wouldn't he want to live like he has always lived?

Her heart skips a beat.

She snaps out of it, stands, and walks out too as soon as she feels two spikes of chakra walk into the building. Very familiar, disturbing her thoughts and making her walk down the hallways with confusion inside her being and anger on her soft features. She walks to the lift, waits until the doors close and presses the number two.

It's no surprise when Naruto and Sasuke, extremely beat up and bleeding all over the white floor, limp and walk through the doors leading to a hallway—with her office in one of the doors at the sides. It's no surprise when they don't even knock on her door and come in as if they own the place, staining the doorknob with grease and dirt and blood. She's waiting for them inside her office because she knew they would head there with no second thoughts. It's no surprise because it's happened more than enough times for her to know the drill.

She has her hands characteristically on her hips, a scowl marring her face, watching as Sasuke closes the door and Naruto stands there like he's missed a very important key to the plot of a movie.

"So, uh... We kind of went over the line, Sakura-chan," Naruto mutters under his breath.

"And what have I told you, under no circumstances, _not_ to do?" She asks, slightly leaning forward and pressing her bottom against the desk's edge.

"To go over the line?"

"Exactly, and what have you two done?"

"Sakura-chan, I can explain!"

With a shake of her head, she pinches the bridge of her nose and tries to calm down before she can snap at them, but it seems futile when she grabs them both by their ears and brings them closer to her, in between them. "You _idiots_! How many times have I told you both that you have to stop marching in the hospital like this! I have more patients waiting that need real healing, you know?" She yells, letting go of their ears and dragging them out of the door by their forearms, down the hall, and into the room where she usually conducts general physicals.

"What? Our injuries are very real!"

Sakura raises a fist in front of Naruto's face, ready to pummel him into the ground and re-open wounds that have already healed from the chakra inside his stomach. Naruto's insulted expression twists into one of horror and he quickly stammers away.

"Y-You know what? Now that I think about it, Hinata-chan is waiting for me back home with Boruto," he says, opening the door, "and she can heal me too, bye!"

The moment Naruto closes the door, all the fight leaves her body and mind. She is suddenly hyper aware of everything around her, especially the awkward silence that settles over the spacious room.

With one look to her right, she sees Sasuke staring at the door, straight ahead. She looks away before she can let her heart fall out of her chest, running a hand along her forehead to appear normal.

"I assume you're not going to run to Hinata as well, are you?"

The joke is met with no answer and she quickly gives him her back, walking to the sink on the side. She lets out a "sit on the bed" while she washes her hands, making sure to take out every trace of blood under her nails from the operation she had done before, on the man with no left arm. She had run out so quickly toward Tsunade's office that she'd forgotten to wash the grime away.

When she dries her hands and turns around, she's glad the man is sitting on the medical table, following her command.

"Naruto landed big ones this time, hm?" She says, not expecting an answer at all but receiving one nonetheless.

"I won," is all he says, looking up at her from under his long bangs. Sakura scoffs and approaches him with a stethoscope in hand.

"Take off your shirt, please," she mutters, trying to convince herself it's just another patient when he complies immediately. But the way his muscles flex when she positions the cold object on his warm skin makes her cheeks heat up, defying her commands.

She listens to his heartbeat and moves down to his lungs, noticing that everything is fine, as expected.

"Why not just check with chakra?"

Sakura's head snaps up and she almost chokes when Sasuke's breath fans her skin, a few inches away from her own face. Nevertheless, she thinks she does a good job at keeping her expressions at bay.

"I need to heal so many people at the hospital with chakra that I just try to save some whenever I can, you know." With a shrug, she takes off the stethoscope from around her neck and puts it to the side.

"Aa."

His legs are spread apart while he's sitting on the table and she's in between them, but he doesn't seem to notice and, instead, stares at her with disinterest.

"I'm going to check for internal damage now," she whispers, so close to him that she can make out his every eyelash.

Placing a hand on each of his shoulders, she spreads her chakra over his system, making sure to not leave a space unchecked and making sure that everything is fine inside. Satisfied with the results, she moves her burning hands away, unsure as to whether she had seen the slight shiver to his body or not by doing so.

"Everything seems fine to me. Looks like Naruto didn't hurt you as much as he thought he did," she says with a smile, quick to look away from his deep eyes and roam over his body for the superficial injuries.

With a start, her green chakra is emitted from her hands and put over his ribs, hovering and healing the deep gashes. When there's only a thin, pink line left, she focuses on his thigh and the blood staining the gash made from under his trousers, most likely due to a kunai slashing across the fabric and reaching his skin. She continues healing and mending the open skin until there are no signs of a fight taken place moments before, were it not for the dirty appearance.

"Done."

Sakura steps away with a satisfied smile and walks around the room, leaving this instrument here and this other one there. When she looks at Sasuke, he's already put his shirt on and stepped off the bed. This makes Sakura focus her line of thought toward a conversation she has already put off for months. It makes her look at the empty space inside Sasuke's left sleeve, the material clinging together at the lack of muscle. She finds her words easily, but inside she's not sure about how to word what she wants to say.

"Sasuke-kun, wait." He pauses his haste to get to the door and looks at her with a curious look on his face. She steps closer.

"I..." She starts, but the quiver in her voice makes her stop talking altogether and she finds it hard to concentrate when he's looking at her with such intensity in his eyes. So she just gets to the point.

"Why did you refuse your prosthetic arm?"

She can see that as soon as her words are out, she's taken him off-guard. This was most likely not something he had expected from her. After all, he probably didn't even know she knew about the arm being finished.

Straightening his back, he looks away for a moment, thinking on how to voice his thoughts. Thinking about the so many reasons why he had refused such a thing.

But no words come out, and he's left staring at the clean floor until his eyes glaze over with sleep. His eyebrows draw together in a frown and his lips purse at the inability to transmit his thoughts to the one person who deserves to know the truth. The one person who was left in the dark during the best friends' last fight at the Valley. The one person he had kept unconscious until the end of the fight just for his selfish and protective purposes. The one person who had had to find him and Naruto without an arm. The one person who had to heal them in the middle of the battlefield despite everything, because she was the only person who could.

He doesn't realise his hand is clenched in a fist until a warm touch envelops it, caging it in and making his hand open up willingly, unconsciously at the hand on his own. It wraps around his palm and squeezes lightly, reassuringly.

His eyes lift up to her own, but she's not looking at him. Her evergreen, golden, minty eyes are staring at a point beneath his eyes. Specifically, on his lips.

Sasuke's breath leaves his lungs in a moment when her thumb presses at the corner of his lips, drawing a soothing sensation to the spot.

And then, just like that, her hand drifts away and down, finally looking up at him in the eyes.

"See you around, Sasuke-kun," she says. And with a smile, she's gone.

It's only a minute later that he realises she'd healed the burn on the side of his lips, produced by his clan's signature jutsu and its intensity.

When the lift's doors close, Sakura lets out the breath she'd been holding and lets her head thump on the wall at her back, closing her eyes with a little smile on her face.


	15. The Past

**A/N: **Baby steps, guys, I can't suddenly make everything happen. Please review (omg I got so excited when so many people reviewed the last chapter, like yas), and sorry I took my time with this piece, it just didn't seem right no matter how many times I wrote it.

**P.S. **WHO WATCHED THE NEW BEAUTY AND THE BEAST? Obsessed.

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**Chapter 15**

_**\- The Past -**_

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The next day, Sasuke wakes up and decides to train.

After a night of relatively good sleep and no dreams he has recollection of, he can finally do so. He can, as so many times before, strap his chōkuto to his back, and leave his apartment briskly after eating (and saving) a soon-to-rot apple. The feeling in his muscles is something he has missed for the past months, he notes. With the Shinobi world in relative peace, he hasn't had time to exert his muscles in battle much on his travels. When he left Sakura in the care of a medic nin back at the Amegakure shelter, he had sprinted toward the battlefield. More specifically, toward the third and last rogue, still dropping bombs from high up in the sky. He had called for one of his signature summons, Garuda, and flown above of the village. And he had beaten him until the man was unrecognisable but still alive for the village's purposes, and he had won. But even_ that _fight was short-lived, quick, and hadn't given him any delighted rush.

He relishes the previous day's spar with his best friend in the way that he is still lightly sore all over. With every step, he's reminded of the hours he'd trained with the blond; the incessant movements, the fluidity of their jutsu, the familiarity of knowing exactly when and where each of them was going to strike. It makes him shake his head with the ghost of a smile spreading over his thin lips while walking through the crowds of Konoha's lively streets.

Everything is green and blue and brown and yellow in Konoha. Wherever he looks there are trees, tall as buildings and even beyond that, offering some kind of shade from the unforgiving sun up above his head. The sky is blue, spotless, calm. There is barely any breeze, the air is dry, and it's just a normal day. And even after it's been years since the end of the Fourth Shinobi War, it's now that he feels something akin to peace. It's a small, brief feeling, but it's there nonetheless.

He unhurriedly takes step after step, moving his way down a particularly busy and crowded street. There are people all around him, passing by him from every direction and even bumping into him a few times; kids, seniors, adults, baby strollers. There are small buildings in a line at his sides, looking like apartments if he lets his eyes take interest. There are different cloth and shoe stands in front of these buildings, at his sides, and he sees many villagers take a liking to what they see that is being sold. Jewellery, well-crafted shoes, hand-made clothing from expert hands with excellent silks, and even a few clothes well-suited for Shinobi like himself, are being sold at one of the village's markets.

Sasuke looks at every person walking down the streets, avoiding their eyes for a reason not even he can come up with. Although he tells himself this, and bites on the ugly-looking apple to hide his intentions, there's a small part in his mind that knows that the moment his eyes meet someone else's down the streets, what he'll see in them is not going to be anything short of unpleasant. He knows, in a rooted part of his brain as deep as Konoha's infamous forests, that he's still not forgiven here, in this blood-stained village derived from a dark, dark past.

Needless to say, he could always just jump over rooftops or choose a quieter street to walk on.

But he decides not to.

Lately, he thinks, there are many things he does which have no apparent reasons or answers. Like the way his feet move toward another direction, opposite to the training grounds, and even the realisation of such mistaken direction doesn't make him stop.

He takes another bite of his sorry excuse for an apple.

A sudden, soft blow to his left leg makes him look down and stop his trek through busy streets altogether, the sudden movement making a woman walk into him and hit his shoulder by mistake. He ignores the way she recognises him with the same speed he can blink, refuses to apologise and instead keeps walking past him.

The white object that had touched him rolls away a few inches from his toes, making him raise his eyebrow at the worn out ball at his feet.

"Could you pass us the ball?" A voice ahead of him shouts, waving a hand over his short stature with three other boys at his side.

Sasuke looks at the boy whose ball had fallen at his feet, narrowing his eyes at the cheerful, nonchalant persona who probably didn't know who he was. An Uchiha, carrying many deaths on his broad back for years and years to come, until the end of his days.

He bends down and grabs the ball with his sole hand, veins protruding from his arm at the pressure. There are people walking to and from the street, passing perpendicularly between the kids and him, so he walks toward them and throws the ball when there are a few feet left.

The boy with unruly orange locks and hazel eyes laughs and smiles at him, so brightly and ignorantly that Sasuke is taken aback for a split second.

"Thanks, man!" And with that, the civilian boys of no more than ten years old walk away and into a corner between two shops, passing the ball between them with their clumsy feet. Sasuke stands there for what seems like a lifetime, staring at nothing in particular and at everything at the same time.

Then, he turns around with the feeling of rocks weighing him down on his back and resumes walking between several wooden stands, and a woman catches his gaze. Standing to the side of a meat stand and with a baby in her arms, she innately moves the newborn closer to her chest, looking up at him with scared, uncertain eyes under several grey locks of hair framing her ageing face. Sasuke immediately turns his eyes to the ground, teeth grinding against each other and a silent rage building inside him.

Those boys hadn't known who he was, and, he thinks, even if they had known, the only thing they would be aware of would be his help in defeating Madara and winning the war. They were born around the time he left the village for his vengeance, he guesses. They wouldn't know about him unless someone explicitly explained to them all the horrors the Uchiha had done.

But this woman had seen enough to know the surface of who he was, the many people he had executed, the many attempts at killing the highest officials of every village, the fact that he had been an enraged teenager once filled with madness and in the Bingo book. The fact that he was the last Uchiha, strolling around the village as if nothing had ever been lost. Her eyes had given him all the information about the trust people have with him in the village, despite everything, which was none.

Sasuke sighs, defeated, and jumps over the next building, giving up the idea of walking around people who still didn't know (or didn't accept) their village for what it had been, countless of nights ago: the reason his brother had been ordered to massacre everyone who once shouldered an Uchiha symbol on their backs.

A small part of him hopes that, one day, a new generation understands everything and finally lets the Uchiha rest.

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Sakura wakes up later than usual after a night shift at the hospital. With a groan, she gets up and stretches to her full, short height, small arms coming to stretch over her head. The slight pain is welcomed, and she drops her arms back to her sides as soon as she starts yawning. Sleeping until late was not really her thing. After all, even during her Team Seven, genin days, she would be at the bridge every day earlier than Naruto and Kakashi; sometimes even Sasuke. Sleeping after late had not been an accident, though.

Tsunade had given her the night shift yesterday, and she had stepped into her apartment at the crude hour of five, right when the finest of Shinobi started to wake up for missions and team exercises. She had forgotten about the world as soon as her head hit the bed's pillow. She looks at the clock on her nightstand.

Eleven.

Sakura sighs and thinks about the afternoon shift she had today at the hospital, not really knowing what to do meanwhile. She could always pay a visit to Sai... After everything, she still hadn't congratulated him for Ino's pregnancy—who knows how many books the man has been reading about pregnancy and women's hormones during the process.

With a snort at the image of Sai reading about how to deal with her best friend, she moves toward the bathroom and discards her underwear without bothering to close the door, knowing full well no one would come in.

She lets the water flow down the drain and steps inside with dainty steps, lightless and gracious, waiting for the cold temperature to go up a few degrees.

The scalding hot water meets her skin in a hiss. She closes her eyes in bliss when her hair is completely damp, feeling how the liquid travels past her short hair and down her long back, meeting the lines of her bottom and losing its trail after. She almost moans at the sensation. Yesterday, she had been too tired to take a bath, and the stench of blood and sweat had followed her home and to the bed. She almost moans again, this time in frustration as she realises she has to wash all the bed sheets and towels before the day is over after she thoughtlessly flopped down last night with sweat and grime and blood all over her.

She stops the water from flowing with a definitive turn of her wrist against the metal knob as soon as she takes out the remaining conditioner from her hair. Stepping out of the shower, she starts drying her angry pink skin, still hot from the shower, with her calculating hands.

Three calm knocks sound in her apartment, freezing her in her spot when she expands her chakra over the place and recognises the other chakra signature like she would the palm of her hand, standing behind her newly replaced door and waiting.

Sakura stills, for a few seconds, before she snaps out of her nervous thoughts and looks around the bathroom for some coverage. As she hadn't even closed the door of the bathroom, she hadn't grabbed any clothes either. And if she steps out of the bathroom naked, there's a high probability that Sasuke will see her from the window of the entrance, since the door of her room is open and it lies in a straight line toward that forsaken window.

Thinking quickly, she grabs her white robe from the back of the bathroom door and wraps it around her body, putting her arms inside the two holes on her way to the entrance. She walks quickly, afraid that the man behind the door would leave after no answer, regretting knocking at her door for whatever reason behind the gesture.

Sakura opens the door with a creak and is met with Sasuke's back, a hand stuffed into the pocket of his trousers and looking down her balcony with a certain serenity. He turns around when he hears her open the door, and she's not ready for her breath to be knocked out of her so quickly.

She dares think about how someone's stare can take her breath away all the time.

"Sasuke-kun! Come in, please," she opens the door further and steps aside, closing it when he's inside the apartment. "Sorry I took long, I just got out of the shower," she says.

His eyes bore into hers like a drill into a wall, making her probably look like a fool as she just looks up at him expectantly. He stands there as if waiting for something, and she wraps the thin material of her robe closer to her form, suddenly taking notice of how thin it actually is, and how it reaches mid-thigh only. Feeling self-conscious in front of her lifetime crush is not something Sakura isn't used to, though, so she just smiles at him from her height in the midst of the war in her mind.

"What brings you here?" She asks, a sparkle to her eyes that he recognises quickly as glee.

"Training."

"You want to train?" She asks, her eyes slightly glazed over with confusion and a funny face on, shifting her gaze out the window and reaching out with her chakra to feel beyond the walls. There's a small smile to her lips that's curious and genuine, reaching her eyes.

He knows what she's looking for before she voices the concerns.

"Naruto's not coming. I wanted to spar with you," he mutters under his breath, the fact that she didn't think he'd ever want to train with her making him mildly annoyed.

"Oh." She moves her eyes up to his, taking him in against the beaming sun of Konoha outside the window, making him glow and almost making her openly gape. And in that moment, she doesn't think he will ever be anything less than stunning, even forty years from now.

He looks down at her with no gleam in his eyes, no glee, no curiousness; but with the waves of an ocean, rocking violently against the boulders that await for impact. Even just a few feet away from him, she feels his gaze in her core. She doesn't think he could ever feel farther from her; not now, not ever. Not even when he leaves for his travels, when she doesn't know he's gone, when he doesn't say goodbye even as she always says goodbye to him before her missions. He leaves or he stays or he's next to her, none of it matters when he's with her all the time.

She remembers all the times she closed her eyes and saw him in the confines of her mind, back when he was gone for years after the year following the Fourth Shinobi War. She remembers the long nights by her windowsill, the silent tears, the hopeful smiles, the way she would always look up at the moon's glow and _know_ that, wherever the man was in the world, she would be under the same moon; the same sky. She remembers the wondering. She remembers the waiting; the endless waiting that always tore at her being.

She doesn't realise she's been staring at the floor lost in thought until she hears a cough from across the living room.

"Right," she almost but whispers to the still air separating them, knowing she's been standing there for a few seconds more than necessary, "I'll be right back."

And with that, she walks to her bedroom and closes the door softly and slowly, leaning her back against the door and biting her lower lip.

She waited. She waited so much. But he's_ here_ now. He is here, in her living room, waiting to spar with her like a normal ocurrence.

With a muffled sound, she drops the robe on her bed and gets dressed in her dark, tight shorts and the usual pink skirt over it. In five minutes, she has wrapped her bindings around her chest and put on a long and black sleeved shirt, patterned with square holes all over and, ultimately, transparent.

It's plain summer in the village, and she's going to train for who knows how many hours, so the less clothing the better.

When she gets out of the bedroom, Sasuke is still in the same position she left him in, standing next to the door, only that now he's looking at her curiously because of her different choice of attire.

She crosses her arms over her chest and shifts to the kitchen, thankful that he follows.

"You hungry? I haven't eaten breakfast, I could make you some," she says, looking at him for a moment from over her shoulder as she manoeuvres for pots and cups in the kitchen.

Sasuke thinks it over, it seems, and nods.

"Breakfast is fine, thank you."

Sakura smiles, contently making breakfast for two in the small and comfortable kitchen. Sasuke sits on a chair at the little, round table on the side of the kitchen, meant for three people and no more. It's not the first time he's been at her apartment, so he relaxes against the seat's brown material, leaving his weapon against the wall next to him as opposed to being strapped to his back.

He looks at Sakura's back form from the side of the table when he hears the fire come to life on the stove.

She turns and starts chopping tomatoes and onions, and from this angle he can look at the side of her delicate profile. The pert nose, the long eyelashes, the soft curve of her light pink eyebrows, the concentrated way she bites her lower lip as she prepares breakfast for them both. He takes all the details in, even without the Sharingan to help, as if each feature lures him in—it makes him confused, the way he's seen this woman for more than a decade and still finds it in himself to gaze at her as if he'd just met her all over again, looking at her face every time with newfound interest.

He thinks about the shelter, back in Amegakure, and how he had looked at her the same way while she was being healed.

He looks away, landing his eyes on the table or the living room or anything else, really.

When she had opened the door for him, he had turned around and his heart had jumped out of his chest with no warning or control. Her cheeks had been red from blushing, her damp hair framing her face delicately, her eyes shiny with happiness, and her little robe clinging to her body with perspiration from the shower. The fact that he has known Sakura since his childhood hadn't explained to him why he suddenly couldn't think and all he could stagger out had been 'training'.

He narrows his eyes and frowns, bothered, with unfocused eyes that gaze upon a vase of flowers in the center of the table.

"Done!"

His head snaps to the left and is met with Sakura turning to him and clasping her hands together. It snaps him out of his thoughts, but makes him all the more aware of her beaming smile. She brings the plates and puts his in front of him. She sits in front and puts down her dish.

It doesn't escape him how there are tomatoes only on his plate, and not on hers.

He looks up in silent gratitude and she smiles, and he nods. So they eat.

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It all started with a punch.

After countless of kicks and punches to the air, arduous stretches, and practiced turns, they stand in the middle of a lonely training ground. The grass is as green as ever, the blue of the sky is brighter than Naruto's eyes, and there's a thin layer of sweat on Sakura's skin before the fight starts, courtesy of the hot weather. There are trees around them, and a clearing in the center of it all. They face each other with clear intent in the air.

And they run.

The first one is Sakura. She runs full-speed and he dodges and she appears behind him and tries to land a hit—albeit failing, as expected. But it all starts with her punch.

After the earth splits beneath them with grave force and impact, they jump into the air. And that's when Sasuke disappears—it happens that she's been looking at this, and she doesn't wait to touch the ground before she thinks of a counterattack, of a strategy, a plot. There's rubble in the air, an infinite fog of gravel and dirt moving all around her from the strategic hit to the ground.

She knows that if he were to attack at all, it would have to be right about now. He wouldn't wait—as no Shinobi worth their salt should—for the air at the field to clear up in a few moments. She's vulnerable to an attack as it is, and he has the advantage of a clear enough view with his Sharingan. So she waits, as soon as her feet touch the ground, for the attack, vigilant but relaxed.

She's proven correct when she feels the air shift behind her in a gentle gush of wind. She turns before he can grace even a hair on her head, flipping backwards in front of him until she's ten feet away from him. She can't see him, but now she knows where he is, and she smirks to herself when one of her two clones can land a hit to his right shoulder.

And then he's in front of her and at her sides. The copy clones hold her in place by her arms, and the real Sasuke in front of her takes out the chōkuto from his back, slowly and agonizingly, and puts it against her throat. She stills.

It's a few adrenaline-driven breaths later that he draws a little trail of blood from the skin of her delicate throat.

"You have your Sharingan on," she calmly says, looking up at him and not trying to move away at all.

He raises his eyebrow at her factual comment, looking down at her from the way he stands so close.

"By now you must have noticed," she smiles up at him with a certain kind of playfulness to her tone.

"Humour me," he says.

"I'm not real, Sasuke-kun."

"The real you is hiding right now on a tree behind me."

There's a gasp from the other side of the clearing, and Sakura frowns slightly.

"Why, then, don't you attack the real me?" She asks, the smile returning to her lips. "I could easily beat you right now."

Sasuke's eyes lower from her own to the blood trailing from the center of her throat, down until it's lost in the valley under her bindings.

"I doubt it," he murmurs.

She's obvious to the way he grabs hold of his sword tighter. In one swift and trained movement, the weapon is plunged in her heart.

And then, her body falls to the ground in a loud thud. By now, Sasuke knows there is something wrong.

And then there's a scream that dies in her injured throat. Her eyes are cloudly with unspilled tears and _dead_. She's dead.

She's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead-

Sasuke stares at her sprawled form for seconds, minutes, hours. He feels a tremor running through his body and a horror etched in his soul. The sword in his hand threatens to fall on the grass. Her blood drips from its tip to the ground.

He closes his eyes.

"Kai!"

On cue, the world shifts a little under his feet and he feels the need to throw up his well-prepared breakfast at the sight of no one on the ground in front of him. No dead eyes, no dead heart, no dead Sakura.

Sasuke quickly turns to the real Sakura, hidden and perched on a tree a few feet away. He silently praises her wittiness, the way she had perfectly executed a genjutsu right at the perfect moment. But the fact that his hand is still slightly shaking makes him swallow his praises for another time.

He can see her clearly; can see how she heaves and breathes heavily after the pain in her chest finally hits her. The aftermath of a part of her being killed.

Sasuke knows this, and takes advantage. Thankfully, he had realised it was a genjutsu before the time ellapsed too much. He walks toward her with no rush whatsoever, knowing the effects would last for a few more seconds. The slight guilt he feels at the needle-like pain she's experiencing right now doesn't compare to what he's still feeling.

As soon as he's one foot away from her, he adjusts the hold on the sword in his hand, and readies himself to win the spar once and for all. But Sakura moves a leg under his, swipes it fast and makes him jump quickly. She raises her fists and punches away at him, and he dodges with his arm, sidestepping and moving his head out of the way at times. He jumps and moves, as well as she does, as much as possible to get away. And then he attacks, and she's the one backing away from his punches and practiced kicks.

After endless minutes, one kick lands on her stomach with inmesurable force, making her gasp audibly. He's on his back a second later, the breath knocked out of his body when he lands on the rough bark of the sturdy tree he found her on—but also at the pressure of Sakura's thighs trapping his waist, he notes, sitting on his stomach and with the bloodless chōkuto at his exposed neck.

She looks down at him with victory written all over her features.

Sakura waits a few seconds before she lets out a laugh. "'Doubt it', uh?"

Sasuke lets out a huff.

Sakura eyes him for a second and rolls her eyes. She gets up, dusting her shorts from all the dirt of the ground, her stomach already fully healed.

"Can't you just give me credit, Sasuke-kun?"

She looks up at him with her hands on her hips, a small smile contrasting with the glint dancing in her eyes. Sasuke gets up when he finds it in himself to look away.

He sighs.

Sasuke walks toward her and grabs the sword from her hand, strapping it again to his back and looking back at her when he's done, spotless as if they hadn't fought for hours. She looks up at him, expectantly, putting her hands behind her.

"So, I was thinking."

"Hn."

"It's already lunch time," she says, already walking alonside him to the exit of the training grounds. "What do you say about paying a visit to Naruto?"

He only groans against her warm laugh.


	16. The Present

**A/N: **Hey. So I have three weeks left of school (bless). Bye bye college.

**P.S. **This chapter is a damn rollercoaster so prepare yourselves. 0 to 100 real fast. (I think we all knew it was coming, cuz honestly poor Saku.) It's like the peak of this fanfic.

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**Chapter 16**

**\- _The Present _-**

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Sakura opens the door with a familiarity acquired over the years, but with a different person behind it.

"Ah, Sakura, how nice to see you again," he exclaims with a small smile under the dark fabric of his infamous mask, genuine and joyful. There are slight wrinkles to the sides of his eyes from the motion; this is how she can tell the gesture apart from all his other expressions, albeit few as they are. Sadly, she catches on to what is going on before he has the chance to finish the short sentence, and it shouldn't surprise him when he knows she's usually very good at noticing the details of things.

It's when she glances at the stacks of papers on the desk in front of him that she realises it isn't hard to see why he's suddenly so captured by her visit. Anything to feel entertained and shy away from the work he's bound, required, to do. She knows this, but still looks up from the mess on the table to glance into his dark eyes again.

Sakura returns the smile with a warm lift of her pink lips and takes a few steps inside the ample room.

"Kakashi-sensei, it's nice to see you too," she says, taking a seat on one of the two chairs that are in front of the Hokage's desk, her former sensei on the other side of it. "Especially since I only ever see you for missions now; you keep yourself pretty busy these days."

She motions to the different mountains of paper on his desk, at both ends, and she can almost see the nervous sweat rolling down his temple before his expression changes to a playfully accusatory one.

"I could say the same thing about you."

"You know I spend my days solely at the hospital."

"Well, you see," a tiny laugh comes out of his dry, chapped lips. "Being the leader of a village is nothing short of exhausting. You can imagine how I spend my days: trapped in here save for the once-in-a-lifetime trip to another country. For diplomatic reasons, of course."

"Of course," she draws out the word and folds her hands on her lap, relaxing on the soft material of the chair. "I'm guessing they take away your beloved limited-edition books too?"

Whatever was left of Kakashi's expression goes away in a heartbeat at the mention of this. Colour fades from his face instantly after, and Sakura almost giggles when he subsequently sighs and leans back in his chair, looking up in defeat.

"No one understands," he breathes, closing his eyes, "I would work so much better if they would just let me read some here."

Sakura laughs.

"I'm sure they don't let you read porn under Hokage duty for a reason."

Kakashi looks at her like she's said something of very little relevance to the world. "I don't see it."

She lets out a snort after he blatantly ignores the very obvious reason why his advisors don't let him read explicitly graphic_ porn books _during his office hours.

She's about to comment on that ridiculous answer with something along the lines of the idea that he's getting dumber without them, and that he probably has a real addiction and must have them on him all the time, but his next words interrupt her with no preamble.

"So, why can't Sasuke come in?"

There's a look in Kakashi's eyes as he gazes to the door of his office, narrowing his eyes but with clear interest.

Sakura suddenly remembers said man, the same one who willingly stayed behind as soon as they got to the door of the Hokage's office up on the tower. He had stayed next to the door, hand in his pocket and back against the wall. At least, that was the last image she got of him before crossing the line of the doorstep.

Sakura opens her mouth to reply when her dark-haired friend walks inside at a second's notice, as if knowing he had been indirectly summoned, taking her by surprise as soon as she turns and sees the annoyance in his charcoal/lilac eyes.

"I never thought eavesdropping was one of your pastimes, Sasuke," Kakashi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looks at his former student (who's looking back with greater intensity, she thinks).

"I wasn't eavesdropping."

"Sure did look like it."

"Where's Naruto?"

"Sasuke-kun!" She hushes, and she wonders if she should really be shocked that the man is so blunt and direct, not even saying more than five words before dropping their main topic on his former sensei. "I was getting to it!"

Sasuke, handsome and tall and dark Sasuke, slightly turns his head toward Sakura and regards her with a funny look in his eyes. "In an hour, maybe," he mutters.

And Sakura almost chokes and spits her own saliva at the sensation that fills her; was he _engaging _in the conversation? Could Sasuke possibly be _joking _with her right there and then?

Sakura can't be sure, but a small smile makes its way to her lips nevertheless.

"I _was_," she finally says, dropping back to the seat and crossing her arms just like the man in front of her.

Kakashi regards them both for a few seconds, some degree of confusion making its way to his gradually ageing features.

Her mind takes her back to her younger days, days when she couldn't pay attention to the less wrinkly face and the not-yet-there lines on his forehead. Those were lighter times, brighter, full of hope and love and perfect ideals, and her eyes had only ever been focused on a younger and idealised Sasuke. Now, Sakura takes her time to notice the lines at the sides of his mouth, his forehead, and between his eyebrows. She takes notice of the dark bags under his eyes. Albeit the changes are barely noticeable, she knows they will only get more accentuated with time.

"Sakura, you came here to ask me the whereabouts of Naruto?"

There is a sigh and a nod and a look of recognition before Sakura speaks again.

"Actually, we were walking out of the training grounds when we saw Tenten at her shop. I went up to her to ask and she said she had just seen him run toward, well, here," she says, lacing her fingers together when she's done. "So, here we are."

"I see," her former teacher says, then smiles under his mask. "I'm sorry to tell you guys, but he left right before you got here."

Sasuke's look is priceless.

"What? So quickly?" She asks, leaning forward in her seat, eyebrows up and mouth opened.

He nods. "He only came to beg me for his so-called 'Awesome Hokage Training', so I just gave him a pile of work to finish and he left." He finishes that last sentence with a sheepish smile, eyes sparkling with feigned innocence and an imaginary halo appearing over his head, in Sakura's imaginative mind, at least.

Sasuke's already walking toward the door, so Sakura stands up and bows a little in front of the older man. Former teacher and friend or not, he is still the Hokage, and anyone can attest to how much she actually respects this man full of a dark past and no childhood friends alive.

"Thanks anyway, Kakashi-sensei," she says, then walks to the exit, trailing after Sasuke's weightless footsteps. "Bye!"

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They end up finding Naruto already in his house.

Being that it's lunch time, and knowing his wife is probably inside making him lunch, Sakura stares in the direction of his house, which lies a few feet away from where she's standing; the roof under her ninja feet is about to cave in, so she jumps to the ground and Sasuke is quick to follow. They're right in front of his house, but they had been running before. Needless to say that as soon as Sasuke had noticed three chakra signatures inside with his Sharingan, he had told her and they had stopped.

Sakura was many things—loud, aggressive, talkative, and the list could go on and on. But she knew her limits, and she was not about to go inside the Uzumaki household without any food to present and dragging a probably annoyed Sasuke behind. She, herself, wouldn't have any issues with going to the market and getting a pie and then going inside the house to have lunch with her friends and her nephew. But she knows Sasuke, so she doesn't really give the idea much of a thought.

She stares at the impending, large, but cozy-looking house they had recently bought and sighs.

The prospect of having to cancel the thought of eating with her two boys is quickly replaced with the prospect of having to go home, cook for whatever minutes, and then eat alone before going to work at the hospital. She dreads it as much as he most likely dreads having to go to his apartment and eat in the silence, a secret part of his past coming back at him in the quiet halls.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye, looking up and finding herself struck by his expression. She can tell he's deep in thought, looking down at the ground, hand stuffed in the warmth of his Shinobi trousers and giving her his side.

She has the soon-to-be-crushed idea of inviting him to her house, where she could cook him a meal or two for lunch.

But they're only friends, and there are boundaries not even _she_ can dare to cross over on her own. She thinks to invite him, but he had already gone to her apartment in the morning, willingly, and she had already cooked him breakfast. They had trained under the unforgiving sun for hours and hours and she can still feel sweaty all over, the moisture already sticking to her skin and making her wish she could take the second shower of the day. But that wasn't all; he had also seen her in just a robe.

For a moment, looking at his side profile and thinking back to that moment, she dares to bring back some colour to her cheeks.

She knows she's spent enough time in a day with Sasuke. Not enough for her, but enough for him. She knows not to push him. She knows how to avoid rejection by now.

So she just plasters a smile on her face, puts her hands behind her back, and leans toward him so that he sees her.

"I guess I'll just go early to the hospital."

Sasuke's head whips toward her, suddenly snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"I mean, now that our plan is ruined, I'll just go early to work," she smiles a little bit more, leaning away from him and therefore moving away from the shadow of his tall frame. Stepping into the sun seems to burn her already burnt skin, but also within her, too. "I can just grab a bite later at the cafeteria inside, I'll see you around."

She turns away, takes one dainty step away from him, and feels his hand on her forearm a millisecond later. It burns greater than the sun.

"Come on," he mutters under his breath, turning his head away and releasing his faint grip on her arm. Without any other words, he begins to walk in the opposite direction of the blond's house and she's left to follow without really knowing why.

It's her time to be astonished and confused.

"What?"

Sasuke keeps walking in front of her, but he turns his head a littler to the side in her direction so that she can hear him well amidst the sound of incoming villagers at the market.

"Naruto not being able to come doesn't mean we don't get to eat," he says.

She looks at his back for the longest time, taking in his words before understanding, and hurries up her strides to match his. She walks by his side like so many times before. This time, she looks to the side up at him and smiles, bright and young and joyful, and she thinks she sees the corners of his lips turn slightly; if only for a little bit, upward, and that's all her mind requires for it to go into a state similar to a coma for the rest of the day.

They eat at Ichiraku's Ramen. Teuchi asks about Naruto, but his daughter looks at Sakura's apologetic smile and at Sasuke's eyes fixated on said gesture, and that's all she needs to shush her father and cook them the best dishes of the week. Teuchi just looks at his daughter with a strange and confused look for the rest of their meal.

Soon, their food is ready and served.

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Sasuke and Sakura split their chopsticks at the same time, and there's a peacefulness in the way they fall back into place—a serenity, a tranquillity deep in her bones by just eating next to the man she loves—that only makes her think back in time. To the times she waited, and cried, and waited a little bit more. To the times he returned and left without saying anything, despite her obvious efforts to let him know, for whatever reason, that she's due for a mission. To the times he came back again and all she could feel was the constant itch, the worry etched and carved deep in her bone marrow, the hurt and the anxiousness. She still feels it from time to time, when she's looking at him and he doesn't seem to notice.

It's been almost half a year since he last left, or so she knows, but the worry never truly goes away.

So she speaks; there is time now, everything is quiet between them, the streets are alive with people, Teuchi and his daughter are nowhere to be seen, and the ambience moves her forward. So she speaks her mind and says something that has been bothering her for endless months.

"I haven't asked you this, but I guess it hadn't crossed my mind too much," she lies, talking as soon as she swallows the first bite of her custom-made ramen. "I was wondering when you would... Um, you know, leave again."

There is a tense moment where she sees him stop every movement altogether. His breath hitches and his hand pauses mid-air. Sakura quickly tries to fix her wording, and ultimately what she has created.

"I mean, for your travels and stuff. I know you aren't done; I know you haven't seen everything, but I was just wondering when the next time would be," she quickly sputters out. "You don't _have_ to tell me, I mean, you can tell me if you want to. Of course, I _am _asking, so you can infer that I want to know-"

Then the moment is lost, the moment is unfrozen. His hand slowly drops back to the bowl in front of him and his shoulders relax at a certain degree before he takes the time to interrupt her rambling of messy thoughts.

"Why wouldn't I tell you?"

When his eyes meet hers, she expects a cold stare to match his stern voice, but there's only a gentle look, and she forgets the topic of conversation for a second.

"Uh?"

"Why do you think I wouldn't want to tell you?"

The question brings her back to the present—the villagers passing by behind the curtain of Ichiraku's, the gentle breeze that comes from a fan in a corner of the small restaurant, and the rapid beating of her frantic chest—and she frowns ever-so-slightly at him.

_Why do you think I wouldn't want to tell you?_

The question rings in her ears for what seems like forever. All the crying, all the waiting, all the unknowns, all the questions left unanswered.

"Well, I can't really know, can I? You only ever tell Naruto everything that goes on in your life," she doesn't mean to sound like she's accusing him of anything, nor does she want to sound upset, but she does anyway and she doesn't know how to stop the slow burning fire inside of her.

Sasuke answers; it's still gentle, but his voice is raised a bit more than usual.

"I don't tell him everything."

"I think you do," she doesn't look away from his equally unwavering gaze, knowing full well that when she does, she will lose her focus and her argument and she can't afford that. "He knows the last time you left, right? Does he also know which was the last village you visited?"

She cringes; it's involuntary but she cringes at the sound of her voice because she doesn't want to tell these things to his face and see the defeat and the betrayal and the confusion in his mismatched eyes. She's demanding something from him like she's something to him when she's not. She's demanding him and she wants to stop talking.

Sasuke runs a hand through his unkempt hair, brushing out his long bangs from his face and looking at her once again with a truth in her demands shining in his eyes. Sakura feels her anger rise, but she keeps her eyes on him.

"What's with the sudden interest in what Naruto and I do, Sakura?" He asks. She's pushing him. She knows she's pushing him.

"Naruto has a life now. He has a wife _and_ a son. I've spent more time with you since the war ended, yet it's like I don't know you."

"Naruto _asks_."

It ignites the flames, and she feels something in her brain snap.

"Maybe I don't _ask_ because I know you hate people prying into your life, Sasuke-kun. Maybe I don't ask the places where you go every time you step through the gates or the date when you're supposed to leave and when you're supposed to come back because I respect that. Naruto is your best friend so I understand to a point why you tell him every detail of your life, but then I go and tell you everything about my days like the fool that I still am and," she takes a breath, "I don't think that's fair. It hurts whenever you leave and don't say anything. I have to wait for a number of days I have to keep counting—and I'm _sick _of waiting."

She turns away and tries to find her breath, trying to focus on the steaming hot cup of ramen in front of her in order to hide the need to spill angry tears. Her eyes get cloudy anyway, but she refuses her sudden burst of anger to get the better part of her.

Whatever peacefulness they had before shatters into a million pieces and Sakura suddenly wants to take back everything she said. But deep, deep inside of her heart she doesn't regret any of it. She knows she's been hurting for far too long. She knows she's been wanting him to know it all.

Leave it to Sakura to wear her heart on her sleeve and spill all her emotions out like a rollercoaster.

She doesn't see what Sasuke's doing through any of it; she starts taking out her wallet and puts a few bills on the counter, ready to call the owner and apologise for the trouble. Her appetite leaves sooner than later, for she has only tasted the food once. The guilt inside her is nowhere near in comparison to the pounding heartbeat in her ears, her head, and her chest.

She feels the noise everywhere around her, taking her whole and threatening to swallow her alive. It's like she's about to explode—and she dares think that she hasn't felt this way ever since she confessed her love to him back in the battlefield, during the Fourth Shinobi War, as a last resort to make him stop his battle with Naruto. There's nothing but the noise now, just like that time.

It is why she doesn't notice his eyes widening considerably after her outburst of emotions, or how his food lies untouched for the same amount of time as her own. It is why she doesn't hear him or see him when he turns in his chair to face her. But it's already too much for her, and she's quick to stand from her stool and start heading toward her apartment without looking back.

After pouring her heart out in front of the only man she has ever loved, she feels tired in every cell in her body. She feels wrong. She feels empty. She feels as if she had no right, but at the same time that she had every right, and she doesn't understand anything.

The white in her eyes is an angry red with unspilled tears, all she hears is her heartbeat, her bangs are sticking to the sides of her face from the sweat, and she feels as empty as if she had just committed a crime.

The trek to her small apartment is nothing but a breeze. She doesn't feel her legs or her face when she finally arrives, and she doesn't realise she's got there until she opens the front door. And with an intended loud noise, she wants to throw her door as hard as she can in order to close it because perhaps it can mimic the resounding, deafening sound in her ears—only that there's a hand that shoots out from the outside hallway, and a body that appears a second later.

Sakura stares at him for only those two seconds while she stands in the doorway, clearly not expecting that, before she takes a deep breath and looks down at the ground, frustrated and tired and not ready to tell him to leave her alone.

But she can only hear his voice when he speaks.

"I've done many wrong... Acts in my past," he mutters, trying to catch his rampant breath from trying to catch up to her, startling her and making her stare at a point in the nothingness. "Some that I wish I could take back, and some that I don't regret. Seeing the world for myself and helping anyone I can give me some kind of... Hope."

He keeps looking at her; she keeps staring at a point on the floor.

"I know Naruto has forgiven me. And I know you have forgiven me too, if not for the fact that you've said it. But I _have_ to forgive myself, and I can only do that with time."

She looks up at him.

"They say time heals all wounds, right?" There's a pause where he sighs, shakily, and takes a few more breaths before he—she guesses—steadies himself. His voice comes out raspy and tired like he has carried them down on his back for too long—like he probably has.

He moves inside with one step and closes the front door behind him—Sakura's glad, she knows her neighbours can be quite the onlookers.

He starts talking soon after.

"But there are some that won't heal no matter what. One of them is what this village has done to my family, Sakura, and I refuse to stay here for too long. I can't—at least not yet.

"I have chosen to refuse the arm made for me. Not because I am ungrateful, but because I don't deserve it. If one day I finally come to terms with myself, I _will_ wear it," he says.

It takes all of herself to avoid bursting into tears for this man—this boy—who has been manipulated, thrown about, and hated for most of his life. This man who is destroyed, who is lost. This man who doesn't open up to her until he freaking sees the only person after the massacre to ever love him unconditionally starts giving up on him.

There are tears down her cheeks, and she can almost hear her quiet sobs, but she doesn't look at him. She just looks at his fist, white knuckles at the amount of force he's putting into closing it. It's shaking like she's shaking, so she gives in.

She grabs his hand with her own, enveloping it slowly.

She breaks then, there, in the small of her apartment with Sasuke in front of her, when he doesn't hesitate for a second and interlaces their hands.

It breaks her but it mends her at the same time, slowly, because she needed this. This truthfulness, this outburst of hers, these answers from Sasuke. She needed all of it.

And as she starts shaking badly and the tears spill with no barrier, she lets go of his hand. In one swift movement, she embraces him and holds onto the back of his shirt with all that's left behind, and all that's new to come.

Sasuke only has to take one step to the left to sit on the small couch. He takes her with him and carefully puts her on his lap. It doesn't exactly take long before he's rubbing a soothing hand on her back, and this, for some reason he can't explain, makes her hide her face in the crook of his neck and cry more.

They stay like this for one hour.

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**A/N: **Ok but pls review and let me know how it was because it's 2 am and idk if I feel ok with this. I may or may not edit this later based on your opinions.


	17. The Future

**A/N: **THE TENSION IS REAL.

On another note, bad news and good news. Bad news: I broke my wrist a few weeks ago and I'm still with a cast all the way up to my elbow, which makes it really awkward for me to write. Hopefully the doc will take it off before I update again. Good news is that I finally finished college! Now I can focus on this. Review plis.

**P.S. **I was fangirling so hard when so many people reviewed about how much they liked chapter 16. Like, thank youuuu. (And yes I know Sasuke was a lil ooc at the end of the last chapter, but you don't know how many times I had to delete and add and edit him in order to keep him as in character as possible. He's trying to change, you guys.)

I was listening to "If This is Love" by Ruth B. while writing this, oops.

* * *

** Chapter 17**

_**\- The Future -**_

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Sakura, shaky breath and delicate grip on a shirt, finally calms herself after awhile, sitting on two thighs and snuggling close to a chest. Her hands, in the large span of time in this position, have moved from his back to the front of both of their chests. Her legs are on either side of his, and her face is sideways on his broad shoulder.

Sasuke, all sharp but gentle angles, is actually very comfortable; so much so that she can't feel her own body pressed to his, but rather feels like she's floating or like she melts into his own self.

Sasuke, all blunt and serious, is still rubbing slow and small patterns on her back, reassuring and giving her chills every second. She doesn't think he notices his hand moving anymore, but she can't really see him from this angle, so she doesn't know if he's lost in thought or well aware that she's calmed down.

All she can see is the skin of his neck—and the back of the sofa, and the tips of his dark hair, and the slope of his neck toward her face.

She closes her eyes for a moment and breathes in his scent, the same odour that makes her head spin and, at the same time, brings colour to her world. It fills her senses completely, taking her captive and not letting go. Sakura sighs contently against his neck at the sensation.

Sasuke, almost immediately, halts his moving hand on the middle of her small back.

She opens her eyes and tries to focus them on him, tilting her head upward in order to peak at the side of his face. She still can't see him well, though, and so she sighs again.

Sakura opens her mouth to speak, after endless minutes of crying and hiccuping and trying to get a hold of herself but failing because she just had to let all her feelings out, still looking at him from the low angle of his shoulder.

After being a complete mess, she thinks she's stable now.

_I'm okay._

"I'm okay now, Sasuke-kun," she whispers, finding it in herself to twitch at how her voice slightly breaks.

She thinks she says that more to herself than to him, but it doesn't matter because he's listening, and she knows he is.

She doesn't want to bring him any more trouble than she has for one day, though. She has sparred with him, eaten with him, argued with him, and hugged him for at least an hour while sitting on his lap on her sofa. This, all of this, is more than enough for Sasuke for one day.

Although she tells this to herself for the second time in a day, she doesn't think both hold the same meaning. The first time, she had been in front of Naruto's house, before he had even proposed to eat at Ichiraku's, and those words she had completely believed. Now she's not too sure, especially since they have talked and he has opened up to her, as few as the words were—she knows the effort was far greater.

She thinks back.

She has been mulling his words over and over in her head for the past hour, as well as her own words toward him, trying to extract the meaning behind everything and trying to understand it all.

_I know you have forgiven me._

_What this village has done to me, Sakura, and I refuse to stay._

_I have chosen to refuse the arm made for me-_

_Because I don't deserve it._

She knows the exact moment when she told him she forgave him, and she knows when he told her the truth about the Uchiha massacre—during the year after the war, right before he left for the first time to his path of redemption, which made her question Naruto and Kakashi about it and then led her to be extremely upset about no one telling her, which led her to stop talking to Naruto and Kakashi for a month.

There are many things she still doesn't know, but the one thing that she's sure of is that he tried. He's trying. He's opening up to her, even if it's at his own pace.

This may be a small thing to the outside world, but to her it means everything. He finally let her in about some things, finally explained some things that have been plaguing her mind since the war, and that's something she won't take for granted.

And she can't help but muse over the idea that, even after opening up to her, her shock had been greater when she had grabbed his hand and he had embraced her own instantly. Then, she had been a crying mess and had barely managed to throw her arms around him amidst the shaking from her own overwhelmed body. But now, she can look back on Sasuke's hand in the small of her waist, moving her closer to him and closer to the sofa, and then drawing circles on her back while she spilt her heart out in the form of tears.

She smiles against his neck.

The best of it all, she thinks, is that she doesn't feel anxious anymore. She doesn't feel the itch or the panic or the fear that he might leave, the emotions that would take over her nervous mind every time she'd see him. She doesn't feel like there's a lump in her throat. She doesn't feel like when her breath would leave her lungs every time she would find he had left, once again, without saying goodbye. Now, she can finally breathe and relax and just be in his embrace.

She's okay.

With a certain type of mental strength inside of her, she pushes herself off his shoulder by pressing her hands on his chest, and finally looks at him. He stares back, blank eyes that spark with clear concern when she moves to push herself up and off him.

He grabs her wrist before she can stand and leaves her still, a frown etching into his brow, and she narrows her eyes at this.

"Are you?" He asks, and it's the fact that she knows him well that she knows what he's asking about without really saying it. There's a gentleness in his eyes she hadn't seen in a long time, and her eyes copy it subconsciously.

"I'm okay," she repeats, a small smile coming to life across her lips at his concern. She takes the opportunity to ask him the same question, face to face and with little distance between them. "Are you?"

It's not like she was expecting him to vocally answer, but the small growl in his stomach makes her widen her eyes, for just a moment, because she definitely was not expecting _that_. She starts genuinely laughing, albeit not loud. Sasuke's ears turn a soft shade of red.

He glances at her smile, her rosy cheeks, and her dishevelled appearance and turns his head away, preferring to look to the wall next to him.

Sakura takes his look for embarrassment and lightly punches his shoulder with a gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, come on! Naruto would be rolling on the floor right now of laughter," she says.

"It's not funny," he murmurs, still staring at the wall. If he had both arms, Sakura imagines, he would definitely be crossing his arms over his chest in an indignant manner at the moment.

"It was pretty funny, and you know it."

"Hn."

Sakura rubs her hand on her chin and looks up, seemingly thinking.

"Then again, I left before we could finish our meals," she looks at him with a smaller smile, and he looks back a second later.

"Sorry about that, what a waste," she says, blowing the rose bangs out of her line of vision.

She probably looks like a mess after all that has happened in the past two hours. Her eyes are probably swollen with all the tears she has spilt. Her cheeks are probably red by the way she can feel the heat on her face. Her once-high ponytail is already low and wild, so she reaches above her head without preamble and re-does it while looking at a point above Sasuke's shoulder.

There is silence. It stretches over her apartment and takes over completely. So she finishes and looks at him once again, and she gasps.

Sasuke's Sharingan stares back at her, his other eye, lilac and with circles, hidden by his long bangs.

She stares back and wonders what she's doing still on his lap now that she's reiterated she's okay, but doesn't dwell on it too much when she knows she doesn't want to move away; she doesn't want to move away at all, actually.

The intensity written on his face makes small flames coil inside her veins, bringing forth a tiny wanton desire inside her.

In fact, she wants to move her body closer, her face closer, and stop wondering how his lips would feel moving against hers.

She lowers her eyes to his lips, chapped from the heat outside, enticing and forcing her to move forward, and forward, and forward...

Instead, she stays put and frozen on the spot, mouth slightly agape at the thoughts that cross her mind; at the desire pulling her in, almost suffocating her and forcing her to take action.

She doesn't know if she imagines the frown on his face start taking form, but she stands from the couch before she can decipher his expression, taking a few steps back and rubbing her arms with her hands.

Slowly, Sasuke stands up too, the red from his eyes already out.

"Sasuke-"

She jumps as soon as a loud beep sounds in the kitchen, startling her but not impressing the man in front of her much. She moves to the kitchen and picks it up, looking at the time on the wall before picking up the object on the table. It's her pager, and she mentally chastises herself for forgetting her shift started thirty minutes ago, and that someone is already needing her at the hospital.

"Sorry, it's the hospital, my shift started half an hour ago," she voices, grabbing her keys and a bottle of water from the fridge. "I gotta go."

Sasuke, in the time she takes to walk to the fridge and back, has already opened the front door and stepped out of it.

"I'll see you around."

And with a disinterested, dismissive wave of his hand, he's gone.

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Sakura walks the halls like she has done so many times before.

Her heels echo in the walls of the small, white hallway as she keeps walking, mindful to greet every nurse or doctor that crosses her path.

She stops in front of a double-door at the end of the hospital, on the last floor, taking out a small card and swiping it through a slit of a little protruding square on the wall.

It beeps and shows a green light before the doors open on their own and Sakura passes through them—they had installed a new system to certain restricted areas of the hospital, like this one, a few months ago and it still baffles her how much technology was really advancing in her village.

Sakura walks to the front desk of the Children's ward she had opened a long time ago, waving at the new intern behind the desk.

"Oh, good evening, doctor Haruno!" The young woman behind the blue desk smiles brightly upon noticing Sakura walking and waving over. Her caramel eyes show only respect and awe at her superior, and Sakura smiles back.

"Itamura Satachi, good evening to you too," she says as soon as she reaches the desk. "I haven't seen you since last week, right?"

"Yes, but things have been pretty much the same since I started my training, so there's not much that you've missed," the black-haired youth retorts, moving a strand of silky, long hair behind her ear.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that, now. Every new child that comes here is something pretty new, wouldn't you say?" She smiles a bit more, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her white coat. "How many new patients do we have?"

She can practically see beads of nervous sweat from the woman's forehead, and she can't help but feel a bit guilty at reprimanding her. Satachi shifts through papers on the table and reads some of the reports under her breath before looking up at her mentor again.

"Well, since last week, there's been six more cases, and one of those six children was released yesterday by doctor Makuru."

Sakura nods once and looks at the halls on either side of the front desk, sighing and walking past Satachi with a curt thank you.

She visits each and every child, taking her time to talk to each one, regardless of whether she recognised some faces or they were new ones. She goes door to door, room to room, and spends time with them, not rushing at all. Some of them are orphans—the vast majority, actually—and some of them are children from civilian parents who are worried about the things their kids have seen with their inexperienced, shocked eyes.

When she's done with that, she turns to look for the different psychiatrists assigned to different specific kids, and talks with them. They go over every child in her known weekly assessment of the ward, making sure every child is tended to as every child is supposed to.

Sooner than expected, evening turns into night, and Sakura decides to return to the main wing of the hospital, where she specialises in and can check up on her own physically injured patients.

Sakura goes home at two, when the moon is high up in the sky and there is no one walking the streets of Konoha.

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She sees Sasuke two days later.

It's as she's putting her clothes in the drier, and she presses the button in order for the process to start that she hears a few knocks at her door.

She immediately frowns as she walks toward the door, wiping her wet hands on the cloth of her shorts.

She expects Ino, Sai, Naruto, Hinata, or even Lee.

But certainly, as she opens the door and is greeted with the sight of a broad chest and straight shoulders, she knows she's wrong when _Sasuke_ is the one visiting—especially, she thinks, after the emotional rollercoaster she had put him through the last time they saw each other. After that, she'd been trying to stay away from him, since she thought he needed his space.

Hence why her breath hitches when she sees him on the other side of her door.

He looks down at her wide eyes and she looks up, mouth agape. "Sasuke-kun!"

She imagines she sees the corner of his lips turn upward, even in the slightest, before it's gone along with her surprise.

He nods toward her, and she almost beams—after her surprised look goes away—with so much happiness that she thinks Sasuke can clearly see it in her eyes.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun!" She clasps her hands together in front of her chest, and smiles up at him with genuine affection.

"Good morning," he breathes.

"What brings you here so early?" She gasps as soon as the words leave her mouth and she quickly stammers. "Training, again? I was doing the laundry, but I can get ready after the clothes are done, if you don't mind waiting," she runs a hand through her short pink tresses, looking down, "I just hate how they get so wrinkly if I leave them for too long in the drier after it's done, I mean, one day I fell asleep and-"

"Sakura."

"Hm, Sasuke-kun?" She puts her hands to her back and looks up at him from her jumbled thoughts.

He shifts, uncomfortable, and that's when she notices the bag strapped across his torso and falling at his side, and the way his hand is clutching at the string so much so that his knuckles are a startling white.

The gleam in her eyes is gone soon thereafter, along with what had been a beaming smile. She feels older all of a sudden.

She opens her mouth to speak, then, but he does so first.

"I'm leaving again," he states, moving his hand inside his dark cloak.

It's something so simple, as if he's commenting on the weather at Konoha. The words leave his mouth and she blinks up at him before she finally swallows them.

"Today?" She exclaims, wide-eyed and stupefied.

At Sasuke's nod, and at the tight jaw and hard eyes, Sakura looks down at their feet, separated by the threshold of her apartment.

"Oh," she murmurs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm-"

He stammers, and she looks up quickly, finding it hard to breathe when he refuses to meet her eyes, but instead swallows and opens his mouth again.

"I won't take long."

She's about to nod a little, looking up at him—a small gleam in her eyes that makes his expression soften and makes her heart jump a little in her chest—when her breath hitches in the back of her throat at his unexpected touch.

"I'll see you soon, Sakura."

She can only imagine her furious blush at his words and at his fingers tapping the seal on her forehead, for the second time ever.

And that's the last he says, for he turns around and she finds herself wanting to move but being unable to. She's glued to her spot and the words come out before she can stop them.

"Sasuke-kun!"

He turns, already on the roof of the apartment building in front.

"Thank you, you know, for telling me."

She smiles at him, and hopes that—even though she's incredibly glad he took his time in going to her apartment and letting her know he's leaving to his usual travels—he can't see the slight sadness in her eyes at his sudden departure.

And when he disappears through rooftops toward the gates of the village, and she's inside the safety of her apartment, she touches the spot above her heart and feels her eyes water.

_Finally_.


	18. The Halt

**A/N: **Lemme just say that I've sorted everything out and the finale is coming near. Just a few more chapters omg, I'm so excited.

Enjoy this one even if it's just a filler—it has important stuff.

**To the guest reviewer whom I can't pm:** I don't see how Sakura's strong character is broken last chapter. I mean, she's always kinda vulnerable around Sasuke in the manga and anime, and she's just been holding that confrontation for so long.

And about her accusations toward Sasuke about Naruto being the only one who knows everything that Sasuke does is in fact answered, but in chapter 17. I tried to make it seem as if he's progressing when he shows up at the end to just let her know he's leaving—something that he does for the first time ever. He's starting to open up to her like she wanted him too, you see. I hope that helps and thanks for the insight, it's my first long-ish fanfic so I take criticism ;)

Thanks to everyone for reviewing! Consider leaving a few words for this chapter please. :)

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**Chapter 18**

**\- _The Halt _ -**

One week goes by when she gets a letter.

She's in her office, at the hospital, carefully reading an agreement between Konoha and Suna, dictating that Konoha ninjas would be heading over to the infamous desert in three weeks time, in order to collect a few samples of different cacti around the area. At the hospital, they were running low on supplies from Sunagakure. And as the co-head of the village's hospital, Sakura had been assigned all the formal paperwork required to go over and take a few cacti samples.

She has been filling out papers that look the same, over and over, for about an hour.

It's such an unnecessary formality, Sakura thinks. She knows Gaara, and he knows her in turn just as well. She knows that, if she were to ask, there would be no problem in retrieving the few, mediocre-looking succulent plants.

And yet, she knows that this paperwork signals the history of the trek to Sunagakure.

If she were to ask Gaara and receive an affirmative and then go to the desert, who's to say they won't ask for the proof? It's proof, these signed papers, that they need.

This is what she tells herself as she reads over every word with certain scrutiny, her eyelids already feeling tired and falling forward from time to time.

She sighs for the umpteenth time as her gaze lands on a long line at the end of the current paper on the desk. With a few flicks of her hand, she signs her name in a mess of lazy strokes and moves on to the next page.

She's sure she's going to drop her head on the table from exhaustion—she has, after all, been working for seventeen hours so far, nonstop except for the two lunch breaks—when she hears a soft landing on the window behind her desk, and ultimately behind her.

She turns at the gentle sound, accustomed to training her ears for the faintest of noises around her.

What she sees makes her eyes widen in surprise.

Atop the windowsill is Sasuke's signature hawk, perched and regal against the burning hues from the sunset behind it, dutiful and very familiar. Sakura approaches it with three short steps, taking the note that's between its claws with curiosity.

She pets the animal amiably, though the gesture lasts less than a second, and it in turn barely acknowledges her touch; instead, it straightens up and looks at her for a command.

Sakura wants to laugh for a moment at this—at how so very _Sasuke _the hawk was, just like its owner.

"Wait," she whispers to the majestic bird, taking a step back and opening the small slip of paper with nervous fingers.

It's Sasuke's handwriting for sure, there's no question about that in her mind. Just like when they were younger and Genin, his words are in perfect, sure strokes. Confident, just like him.

_In three days_, it reads.

Sakura reads the three words in her head until she hears the bird in front of her shift, surely impatiently waiting to take off to its master.

Sakura gazes up at the hawk, which looks at her as if knowing, and she scrambles to grab a pen from her disorganised desk full of papers and whatnot. She scribbles on the back of the paper, hoping that the message would get to the man before time was up. Then, she folds it in circles and walks up to the hawk, who takes the slip of paper as it has been trained to do a hundred times before.

It takes off immediately, and Sakura watches the bird from her window until she can no longer see more than a small blur.

She turns to the calendar on the back of her white, pristine door, and smiles to herself.

She can't think his perfectly timed arrival could be any more perfect.

_I will be waiting_, she had written.

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Naruto has always been considered a hyperactive person. He has been called many names in the past, most of which depict just how active and lively he is about everything. He's loud, and boisterous, and noisy. He's extroverted, and cheeky, and mischievous.

He may or may not be all of these things, but Naruto feels like himself in moments like these.

Regardless of whether or not he's all of the things he's been called in the past, he feels peaceful like this, with his head on his wife's lap and his eyes trailing his son's hand movements.

Not many people have seen him like this, the number one hyperactive knucklehead, blond ninja in Konoha, currently calm and peaceful at the simplicity of a moment suspended in time.

His wife's delicate fingers trace patterns in his scalp, winding through the side of his blond, silky, short tresses and stopping before starting again; and every time she starts the smooth road through his locks, he can't help but close his eyes for a short moment, lost in the movement as pure bliss overtakes his senses.

His head is on its right side, his ear pressed firmly to one of Hinata's thighs, his hands secured around said thighs, body flowing along the left side of her small body and the sofa.

His eyes are set on Boruto. His tiny body is on the colourful playpen they had bought a few weeks before; it's a tall and circular structure, with soft flooring and mesh exterior, with a railing made of a bouncy material.

His son is with curious eyes open, glancing at everything and at nothing at the same time with his inexperienced, still-adjusting eyes—eyes that always seem dark blue, but Sakura had told them that the eye colour could change as time passed by.

The tiny, smooth hands are jerking at his command in the air, though the movements are small and unpredictable. There is a certain awe to his face and he gazes up to the different-coloured lights floating atop him, due to a mobile attached to the ceiling.

This, Naruto thinks, is not a sight many people have seen; not a facet many people know of the blond Shinobi. But he knows moments like these are going to be one of his favourite memories in the long run.

But, as they're supposed to be, moments are fleeting. Time passes, and everything comes to an end.

So when his wife's voice interrupts the much-appreciated silence, he doesn't feel that the moment is ruined; it has only come to an end.

"Naruto-kun?" She whispers, careful to not disturb their entertained son.

It's as though the woman thinks he has fallen asleep on her comfortable lap, for she can't see his face from this angle and he hasn't moved since he laid down for a timeless moment, right after a delightful, warm meal.

Naruto turns his head toward his wife as a sign for her to continue talking. Her eyes bore into his, both sets clear and in love.

"How is Sakura-san doing?" She inquires next, earning a small frown from her husband. He twists his body so that his back is on the sofa and the back of his head touches Hinata's lap. His eyes rest on hers from the low angle.

"Sakura-chan? She's fine, I guess. Why do you ask?"

With a shrug, Hinata looks disinterested for a second before a glint shows in her soft eyes.

"No, no, I was just curious," she says. "I saw her yesterday while I was buying fruit, and we talked. She might have... Mentioned that she received a letter from Sasuke saying he's due to return tomorrow," she finishes, a gentle but mischievous smile present.

Naruto immediately sits up and looks at his wife in alarm.

"What?" He exclaims.

It takes Hinata's serious look between him and their still-playing son to hush him a bit.

"Wait, he told Sakura-chan that he was coming back tomorrow?" He asks, stupefied, in a more quiet tone.

"Yes, darling."

"But, but he hasn't told me yet..."

It takes him awhile, fingers running through his face in order to wake up from the tranquil haze of being on Hinata's lap. But Hinata notices the change in his expression after only three seconds, and she smiles gently at him.

He looks at her. His face switches from confusion to recognition. He settles for a chuckle and a knowing smile.

"Well, it was about damn time for the bastard," he mutters. "I would've liked for him to tell me too, though."

Hinata giggles lowly at his crestfallen features, clearly saddened at the notion that he hadn't been told about his arrival, as he has always been informed before.

So, Hinata decides to change the subject of Sasuke. She puts a small hand on top of his, both sitting down but close to one another, Naruto facing her left side.

"Hanabi has been asking to spend some time together ever since our boy was born," she starts, giving his hand a squeeze. "I think today is a good time to do that, don't you think?"

Something flashes quickly in her husband's eyes, and she knows that he wants to oppose to the idea of her leaving for the remainder of the day. She takes her hand off before he can protest and stands, moving gracefully to the playpen and bending slightly in order to envelop her arms around Boruto. She lifts him and holds him close to her chest, and in turn, her son lets out a small giggle and keeps jerking his hands against her shoulders.

She faces Naruto with a gentle look.

"I'll take Boruto with me," she breathes, giving said boy a few, smooth pats on his back. "You haven't seen Sakura-san in a long time, have you?"

"Nah, she spends so much time at the hospital I barely see her anymore, I bet even the bastard sees her more often all in all," he scratches the back of his head.

"Then, pay her a visit now."

Naruto stands and looks down at her with a pensive look. Then, he looks to the side with squinted eyes as if in thought. Hinata knows what his worry is.

"But-"

"Yesterday, she told me today was her free day," she says.

"Really?" Naruto smiles characteristically and approaches them both with a little excited jump. He lays a kiss on his son's small head, above a mat of dark blond hair, and pecks his wife on the lips.

Even now, months and months since marrying, his wife still blushes immediately at his gesture.

He yells his goodbye and closes the door of the house behind him as he walks out.

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Sakura takes step after step along the path to Ino's house—after her father and mother had passed away during the Fourth Shinobi War, Sakura had helped find her best friend a cute little apartment, the closest they could find to Sakura's own flat. Hence, she only has to walk by five streets from her own apartment in order to see Ino's.

It only takes a few minutes. She has been walking leisurely down the quiet-ish streets on the West side of Konoha—the sun is out, the breeze is nice during the scalding hot summer against her sweaty skin, and there are enough people on the streets so that Sakura can walk and not feel the need to force the air out of her lungs—as it's good to just walk around the village, looking at everything, once in a while.

There is one plastic bag in each of her hands, full with different food. It had taken her one hour to find everything she read she needed, and she had had to go to three different stores to get everything sorted out.

Her enthusiasm, though, had never been deterred. She still feels the adrenaline coursing through her veins, different than the feeling during battles, but still exhilarating.

When she arrives at the front steps of her friend's building, she considers entering and going up the inside stairs. With a sigh and a shake of her head, though, she jumps from her current spot and lands expertly in front of Ino's flat.

She walks a few steps and knocks three times, jumping a little when she hears yells on the other side of the dark door, making her frown slightly in concern. Her thoughts are interrupted when the door is abruptly shoved open and an agitated blonde stares at Sakura, mouth agape as if ready to damn the person on Sakura's side of the door. Her mouth closes immediately when she sees her best friend's confused face looking at her, with two bags in hand and smile faltering.

"Oh, hello Sakura, what's up?" She opens the door wider in order for Sakura to step inside. She doesn't get a chance to reply to her friend's welcome because as soon as she takes off her shoes and steps in the living room, her eyes widen with concern.

There is wrap paper everywhere, rolls and rolls across the two sofas and on the floor, and she gazes stupefied at the disorder. And in the middle of it all there he is, Sai, leaning against the sofa's armrest, with his arms folded across his chest and his frown deep and genuine for once.

He looks up at Sakura and smiles as if nothing, unfolding his arms and coming up to hug her briefly.

"Ugly, it's been a while since I have last seen you," he voices against her shoulder before releasing her, taking a few steps back and watching as his wife steps into the living room soon thereafter. There is an expression she has seldom seen on him when his eyes land on Ino; it's skin to anger.

"What... What happened, Sai?" She asks, pointing at the gigantic rolls of paper on the floor and something that she notices now as being _ink _splattered on the walls.

Sai smiles with learnt, fake politeness.

"I apologise for the mess, ugly. We were certainly not expecting you today," he explains, not answering her question. But, she supposes, that's what Ino would do; which she does immediately after Sai stops speaking. Ino steps in front of her husband, effectively blocking Sakura's view of him, and faces her with a hand on her small but growing bump and the other pointing at the mess behind her.

"Forehead, I'll tell you what happened. Sai-kun here _thinks _that he knows more about colour combinations than I do! Can you believe that, Sakura? And he won't let me put up what I want!" Ino scoffs, indignant, walking around Sai and grabbing one of the many colourful paper scrolls. Sakura finally realises that they are wallpapers.

Ino lifts the weightless, vivid paper and points at it with her eyes before looking back at Sakura. "We bought wallpapers separately for different sections of the house we're trying to buy and he brought this; he wants this wallpaper in the baby's room. _This _wallpaper, Sakura," she dramatically sighs. "I can't let my baby girl or boy wake up in a room so ugly. It's outrageous!"

Sakura purses her lips at the ridiculousness she's smelling in the ambience, and instead, she points to the ink-splattered wall to the right of the living room. "Ok... But why is there ink on the wall?"

"Well, I was simply trying to impede my wife from putting up her wrongly chosen wallpaper in fits of anger," Sai says.

There are a few seconds of silence before Sakura realises what that would mean. If there are traces of familiar-looking ink on the wall, and Sai is saying that he was trying to make Ino stop putting up her wallpaper, what could Sai possibly have done to stop her?

Sakura gasps, the implications of such actions hitting her hard.

"Did you use your jutsu on her? Sai, did you hurt her?" She quickly averts her worried gaze to Ino. "Did he hurt you?"

Sai looks confused and Ino looks shocked before they both utter a "No!" as if the mere idea had been ridiculous. But, with Sai, Sakura never knew what to expect, really, so she just sighs in relieve and tries to calm her frenzied heart at the prospect of him hurting the baby.

She almost thought he had the nerve to use his signature jutsu on her friend, pregnant and all. She has always known Sai to be a clueless being, taught from an early age only to kill and not feel—the ideal ninja, described as such in any academy book from her years. But the idea of his cluelessness taking him as far as possibly harming his own wife seems farfetched if she really thinks about it. There is no way Ino would permit that, and Sai may be learning human emotions and morals, but she knows he loves Ino dearly.

With these thoughts, she rationalises she had been thinking impulsively, and she focuses on the conversation at hand in front of her eyes with a lighter heart.

"He just splashed some on the wall so I couldn't put up crap. But, Sakura, how can you _not_ expect me to start putting up my wallpaper when he wants to put up a bunch of disasters!"

Sai turns to Ino, giving Sakura his back.

"Beautiful, we have been discussing this for the past hour. Don't you see? It's a black and yellow wallpaper," he explains as if it were the most reasonable thing ever. "Our love child can either get black hair or yellow hair. It matches."

She takes a step to the right and watches as her friend's eyes widen considerably. "No way, Sai-kun!"

"I still do not understand why you wouldn't want that for him or her. Plus, yellow and black are non-gender-specific colours."

"Yeah, if you want to raise a family of bees!"

"No, thank you. Why would I want that?"

"You don't, I was joking!"

"Oh. Good, because I have no desire in raising bees."

"Ugh!"

Sakura, by now, is sure she has nervous sweat coming down her temple and a tick forming in her eye. After marrying and getting pregnant, she's still amused they're still together.

"I read once that colours need to match, and I don't see how that wallpaper is not good for our child."

"It's not good, Sai-kun, because it's a crime to the fashion world!"

"What?"

Sakura sighs and puts her hands on her hips, stopping to stand next to them, forming a triangle.

"Okay, we obviously have a conflict going on here," she says. Then, she turns her head in Sai's direction. "Sai, Ino just doesn't like that wallpaper, and you are a couple, so you both need to agree on the baby's room, and you should've gone shopping together. So, just move on and choose another one. Now, Ino," she looks toward her friend. "You can't be agitated and screaming all the time, pig, the stress is bad for the baby. Do you want to miscarry so early?"

There's a flash of worry that passes through Sai's features at the same time Ino looks down in slight guilt.

Sai approaches his wife and tentatively puts his hand on her almost still-flat stomach, were it not for the small bump she has developed. He moves his thumb over her growing lower stomach, looking at her belly and raising his eyes up to her own. Sakura almost gasps at the rapidness in which Ino's fury leaves her body; her shoulders slag and her eyes completely melt looking up at him.

"No more fighting, Ino," he voices, serious. "Let's decide the room's walls later, alright?"

The smile they give each other lights up the room, Sakura thinks, and in that moment she feels out of place. She awkwardly shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking away from the scene in front of her and moving to the kitchen, beyond the living room.

She starts taking out the different things she had bought, not surprised when Ino realises that she's gone and rushes up to the kitchen three seconds later.

"Forehead! What..." She stops mid-sentence when she sees all the things her best friend is putting on the counter in her kitchen. "What is this?"

When she finishes and puts the bags to the side, she turns to her friend with a smile.

There is a pack of flour, eggs she has taken from Ino's fridge, butter, sugar, salt, baking powder, milk from Ino's fridge, and vanilla extract all laid out on display. Sakura puts her hands to her back.

"Well," she drags with excitement, "I thought baking with my best friend would be a fun activity," Sai pokes his head through the kitchen's doorway, behind Ino. "I guess Sai can bake, too."

There is a pleasant smile on his face and a surprised yelp from the blonde. "Really? Oh Sakura, this is like that time a few years ago, when we baked cupcakes for a picnic!"

Sakura nods and laughs. "Exactly, pig! We can totally get the cake unburnt this time, though."

The surprise and excitement leave the blonde's face and she frowns in clear confusion. "Wait, wait, wait," she quickly interjects. "A cake? Whose birthday is it? I know it's not my birthday yet, and you have never baked anything for my birthday, you billboard brow!"

"That's because I like baking with you, and it's not fun to bake your own cake!"

Sam's hand shots up from behind Ino and rests on her shoulder, a small frown marring his pale complexion. "No fights," he says.

Ino sighs and straightens out her knee-length, baby blue dress, looking at her husband for a moment, as if signalling she was okay, and looking back at Sakura. Sai drops his hand and stands next to the blonde.

"Then, who is it for?"

Sakura feels a slight tint to her cheeks and quickly looks away, busying herself with the cracks on the apartment's floor. "Sasuke-kun is returning tomorrow."

There is a suspended silence that makes her look up at the puzzled expression on her friend's face. "So? You're just giving him a 'Welcome Home' cake?"

"No! It's just that..." She sighs and blurts out the rest of the explanation. "His birthday is the day after tomorrow, and he's coming back tomorrow. So, I just thought it would be a good idea to make a cake today because it's my only free day this week."

She looks at her best friend, but she's already getting the bowls to start mixing.

"Well, come on, this is gonna be fun!" Ino exclaims. "Honey, pre-heat the oven to three-hundred and seventy-five degrees, please."

Sakura stands there for what seems like forever, just looking at her two friends with her mouth slightly open in astonishment. She had expected at least one comment on her enthusiasm for surprising Sasuke with a cake on his birthday, but all she had received was a dismissive hand and immediate work.

She sighs slowly, suddenly grateful that her friends are not torturing her today. She starts beating the eggs.

Ino secretly smiles behind her bangs as she looks over the ingredients, knowing.

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Sakura and Ino are in the living room looking through a few baby magazines and some home decor magazines for the new home when there's a knock at the door.

The cake is in the oven, and she estimates there are ten minutes left for the decorating to start.

Sakura is sitting on the sofa with Ino sitting beside her, and Sai on the armrest at her side. They have shifted through the countless magazines Sai had bought here and there since the news of the baby, talking about how to take care of the baby, and the timelines for development, and what should be expected—no information that Sakura wouldn't be glad in providing, were her friends to ask. It seemed that Sai preferred reading than listening, and she had no problem with that.

After the baby magazines were done, they took out home decor magazines, with the purpose of giving out ideas about the new home the married couple were to buy soon.

After the home decor magazines, they started talking about the names for the baby, both sexes discussed out of uncertainty, while Sai dryly commented here and there.

They had been having a heavy discussion about the picks for the male names when there were light taps on the door.

Sakura, all attentive to the way Ino and Sai have been busy discussing for more than two minutes between three names, stands and moves to the wooden, small-looking door, passing through the cosy entrance. The couple doesn't bother noticing, so she opens the door with a curious look toward the newcomer before a big smile crosses her features at the recognition.

"Naruto!" She practically throws herself at him, surrounding his neck with her thin arms and laughing at his throaty but cheerful laugh.

"Sakura-chan!" He exclaims, expertly spinning her around his own axis. "I have been looking for you like crazy!"

When she's once again on the ground of the outside of her apartment, her smile falters slightly, looking up at him.

Why would he be looking for her like crazy? Naruto is a busy man now, with a wife and a son and doing Hokage training, and she has barely seen him in the past month. She doesn't see why he would need to be looking for her inside the village if not for the fact that there is an emergency, and he needs her. The smile completely wears off by this thought.

"Wait, looking for me?" She asks, placing her hands on his forearms and adopting a serious face. "What's wrong? Is it the baby? Hinata?"

Naruto looks taken aback before he chuckles at her worry. "No, silly, I just thought to spend today with you."

It's her turn to be taken aback. She drops her hands from his arms. "What?"

"Yeah, I just haven't seen you in so long 'cause of your shifts at the hospital and stuff- I've told you to pace yourself, right? You can't spend all that time working, Sakura-chan, ya hear?"

Sakura only rolls her eyes.

"Hinata took Boruto with her for the day, and I've been trying to find you since. Anyway, I also remembered Sasuke's birthday is coming up!"

Sakura laughs a little and says, "I actually didn't expect you to remember."

"Hey! Of course I would remember the bastard's birthday!"

He's scratching his nape with one hand, characteristic of him. She shakes her previous worries away and smiles brightly up at him again.

"Well, that's great, because now I can explain everything to you about what we're going to do on his birthday," she voices, letting him inside and locking the door after he steps in. He takes off his shoes and they move past the wooden entrance and into the living room.

Ino stops mid-sentence to something she had been telling her husband just as soon as the other blond steps in her line of vision. Sai looks away from Ino, too, and fixes Naruto with a genuine smile.

"Dickless, what a pleasant surprise," he says, nonchalantly ignoring Naruto's eyes widening.

He has Sai grabbed by his collar before there can be anything else said. "When will you stop with that, Sai?"

Sai shrugs. "I just call it as I see it," he explains, shifting his eyes to Sakura and Ino and back at him as he speaks again. "Sakura is ugly, Ino is beautiful, and you are dickless."

"Well, it's getting old, and if you couldn't tell, I'm a man, so I do have a penis," he releases the pale man and shows his teeth at him from his taller height. "How do you think I'm going to be a father?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Sai mutters under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Boys, boys, come on," Ino places a hand on each of the men's shoulders, standing between them. "No need to argue over such... Unnecessary topics like a nickname."

Sakura snorts, a small vein forming on her temple. "Yeah, you're not the ugly one."

Ino looks at her, offering a wink. "So many years as friends, and you finally admit I'm the prettier one."

Sakura laughs and Ino lets out a chuckle. And the bell from the oven at the kitchen sounds amidst the friendly laughter, snapping the four people out of their conversation.

Sakura is the first one to enter, and she takes out the finished, round vanilla cake with utmost care, placing it on the marble counter and closing the oven with a definite click.

Naruto approaches her first, inspecting it and coming to his own conclusions, albeit slowly.

There is a pause, and then she feels a vein popping again.

"Oh, I am going to throw the biggest. Party. Ever. Believe it!" He poses much like Rock Lee would, and she barely spares a glance at him while she takes her mittens off. Ignorance is bliss, after all. "I'll invite everyone I know! It's gotta be epic!"

A bang of her hands on the counter, on either sides of the cake, makes Naruto jump slightly and stop his imaginative ideas. She's looking at him with a sombre look to her eyes, serious and as a mother would look to her naive child.

"No," is all she says. For a moment, she considers the idea that he will just accept it and they'll move on, but his furrowed brow and the little quiver to his full lips, as if he wants to say something, give Sakura all the answers she needs in order to explain her negative answer.

"Team Seven will suffice, Naruto. You know how Sasuke is. Sai, Kakashi-sensei, and we are enough."

There's a small reluctant nod, and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, understanding but wanting to speak up. So she lets him.

"What about Hinata and Boruto? They're my family, and Sasuke is basically like Boruto's uncle, so he's family too, right? Can't they go?"

With that follows Sai, coming forward from the kitchen's doorway and looking hopeful, saying, "Can Ino and my unborn child come too?" To which she just rubs a hand on her forehead, nodding a little.

"Okay, but that's _it_. Team Seven, Hinata, Boruto, and Ino," she announces, looking at everyone in the eyes. "No more," she says.

Every person seems to understand her final offer, for they nod and she looks away and toward the cake.

"Well, let's decorate," she approaches the cake again.

"Oi, Sakura-chan..." Naruto voices, a confused look crossing his expression. "Doesn't he hate sweet stuff?

Sakura, who is already aware of this fact and has thought about it over and over, nods without looking at him. Rather, she grabs all the different frostings. "Yep, he sure does."

Naruto just stands there looking like a lost puppy and frowns at the vague answer. Sakura looks at him from over her shoulder and she almost laughs out loud; take it to Naruto to make her laugh constantly. Instead, she turns to look at the frosting and grabs one of the tubes, offering one to Sai and one to Ino, who come to stand by the cake after.

The carefully crafted patterns start.

"I already thought about that, Naruto."

"So...?"

"So I got it covered, don't worry," she smiles a little, putting away the frosting as soon as she finishes her work on the top layer. "The cake is more of a formality, or tradition, you could say. I know he won't eat this, that's why I'm making him something else."

She doesn't specify what this other thing might be, but she doesn't look at her closest friends to check their reactions. Everyone is quiet, and Sai is the only one who's still decorating the cake as if he hadn't caught up—because he probably hadn't a clue.

Naruto and Ino, as expected, share a look behind Sakura's back, but it's as though she sees it all the same.

The cake is done and completed sooner rather than later, and they all take a moment to appreciate their work. Sakura has to swat Naruto's hand away once, while she had been putting things back inside the fridge, giving her back to the cake for a moment and risking the blond eating a sample.

Sai dries the dishes and bowls and utensils, and Ino hugs Sakura goodbye and walks to the bathroom to shower after a long day. If Sakura knows anything about her friend, is that she's extremely clean and devoted to keep her young, mature image intact. She can only guess how much messier life will prove to be once she grows a larger belly, so she just hugs her back and lets her be.

She tells Sai and Naruto to be at Sasuke's apartment at around seven in the afternoon in two days time. The plan is to distract Sasuke until the right time.

Naruto will distract him, take him out of his apartment by six, and lead him outside so that she and Ino can prepare everything and set up the small dinner party. They both understand and will relay her message to their wives, so she finally puts the cake in the fridge and leaves with the blond.

At night, she lies awake on her bed for an endless amount of minutes, minutes that seem to stretch on and on nonstop, thinking about the possibility of Sasuke already being in Konoha, or if he's punctual and will be arriving from his travels the next day, one day before his bday. It's not like the Uchiha is anything less than punctual, as he has always been and she will always expect him to be, so she falls asleep with anticipation creeping up and down her system.


	19. The Calm

**A/N: **Here we go with the fluff. Review and I'll give you all Sasuke figurines (jk I don't have money, ha).

**Warning: **You may or may not roll into outer space from intense emotions, you have been warned. PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS. :)

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**Chapter 19**

**\- _The Calm_ -**

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Sasuke steps into his birthplace for the first time in ten, long days.

His sandal-clad feet ache with the promise of a deeper annoyance later on—while he's relaxing in his small apartment and realising his feet have endured more than he expected during long treks, one day at a time. He sighs and clutches at his bag, fingering the straps and feeling a sense of turbulence in the air.

He recognises the feeling creeping up on him from the shadows of the village he once thought he would destroy.

It's coming close to restlessness; anxiousness and dread plague his bodily instincts and he wishes to spin back on his axis one-hundred and eighty degrees, just to walk past the numerous trees and disappear between them.

But his legs don't move. Instead, he stays put, staring at the buildings ahead of him, beyond the road he has to walk after already passing through the gates.

There is no familiarness in the landscape; nothing seems like his childhood memories. He guesses that it is because of the attack a few years ago by the leader of Akatsuki, since the village had to be reborn, rebuilt, from scratch.

Still, there is no nostalgia or sense of peace. There is no relief after feeling homesick during his travels, no. During his travels, he feels free, much like his signature hawk flying here and there. He feels that he can accomplish anything, or that he can help the world with little and big actions. He feels _good._

It's a rush, a surge of tiny euphoria, a spark of excitement, that comes out every time he sees the thankful faces of people who he thought would never spare him a glance again. It's the feeling of pride, as he saves every small village he can, that makes his heart feel lightless.

In Konoha, everything is heavy, and the euphoria dissipates.

He feels dread and foreboding, a type of unease that has him sleepless at night. The hairs on his arms stand in high alert. He consciously looks over his shoulder every minute. There are constant instants when he feels as though he can't breath, and there's not enough oxygen in the air around him, for all of it has been sucked by the faces that haunt him day and night.

Even now, just mere minutes after stepping on Konoha soil, he feels his own, only hand ball into a tight fist at his side.

It always happens; it never fails.

Konoha does not feel like home. It may have definitely felt like this a long time ago, during his early childhood, but he is sure it's not this way anymore. The now-unfamiliar buildings don't bring him memories, the ignorance of the public to the massacre makes his blood boil silently, and everything reminds him of the many reasons why he has to go away and rid himself of his sins.

Konoha may not be his home anymore, but there's always something that brings him back. A small group of people who make him turn back on his heel and return, no questions asked. A group of people who he sees in every small detail during his travels.

Team Seven is his family. Naruto is his brother, Sai is his friend, Kakashi is the closest thing he has to a father, and Sakura...

Sakura is his home.

And he will always come back, just like the moon revolves around the Earth, and the Earth revolves around the sun.

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Sakura enters Tsunade's office as if there was a fire wrecking the building and taking it apart. She storms in like a hurricane, rattling the hinges of both double doors, taking the blonde woman by surprise and looking up to appreciate her former and only student and apprentice.

"Tsunade-sama!" Sakura exclaims, closing the doors behind her with a little more care, rushing to the large desk as soon as there is a click.

"Well, if you were planning on an impactful and dramatic entrance, you got my attention," Tsunade smiles slightly, chuckling softly and opening a cabinet to take out a bottle of liquid Sakura very much knows by now.

She chooses to ignore the way her once-mentour has another cabinet full of cups for the occasion, and places the palms of her hands on the table, in front of the blonde.

"I have an awesome idea and I only need a little favour from you," she states.

"A favour? Last time you asked for that, I was stuck with fifty different patients and endless hours of examinations, Sakura."

The blonde woman gives her a pointed look, taking her first sip of the strong drink and letting the burning sensation roll expertly down her throat.

Sakura swats a hand in front of her in a dismissive manner, huffing once or twice.

"No, don't worry. You know that was only one time, and I bought you three bottles of your all-time-favourite sake to make up for it," Sakura proudly states, folding her arms across her chest and looking at Tsunade with a knowing smile.

The older doctor still looks hesitant when she speaks again, but Sakura can't really blame her.

"You barely ask for anything, ever, and you work so hard all the time..." Tsunade seems to think it through with yet another sip of sake. She sighs a small "Fine," and Sakura smiles from ear to ear in excitement. "What is it this time?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could have a two hour break, please," she voices, biting her lower lip in anticipation as soon as the words come out of her throat. Tsunade finishes her cup and she pours a new one, looking passive about her request, so Sakura rushes. "I- I will work the night shift if I have to, or work a double shift any day next week, or maybe take over for a day so you have a break."

Tsunade is inspecting her, probably silently asking the reason why. But she doesn't ask anything about her sudden request, although she has a vague idea about it, when she finally speaks.

"You are the hardest worker at this hospital, Sakura. Take as many hours off as you'd like. Hell, you can take the rest of the day off, as a matter of fact."

Sakura widens her eyes, shaking her hands in front of her torso as a negative. "Oh no, no, that won't be necessary. Just two hours will do," she smiles. "I think."

Soon, Sakura takes off her white coat and hangs it inside her office as she does everyday. She fixes her hair with the tips of her fingers and straightens her white blouse and her navy, knee-length, tightly fitted skirt with a swipe of her hands.

She leaves the hospital in a rush.

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It had been as simple as talking to a patient.

A middle-aged woman, friendly and a little gossipy, if Sakura admits to herself. Sakura has been seeing Ami for more than a year already; Ami was officially her patient. She has diabetes, and constantly needs to be checked into the hospital for checking. It was regular and she knew her very much like a friend.

This is why, when she had first stepped into the room where Ami had been waiting for her, she had stared at her for the longest time in shock.

Ami beat Ino twice times over at a competition of whose hair was longer. Ami's hair was purple, wavy, and reached her knees, although it was normally tied back. But, as soon as she had stepped into the room, she had seen a pixie cut instead.

"_It was time for a change, I guess," _Ami had said.

Even after she'd left, her words kept ringing in the pink-haired woman's eardrums. Change.

_Change._

The more steps she takes now, the more she's convinced.

A change in appearance, a change in direction, a change in the scheme of things. Maybe that's all they need.

It's time for a change.

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The sun is way up from under the horizon when she gets to Sasuke's house. After taking a few minutes to collect her things at her own apartment, she finally stands in front of his own.

She knocks on his door three times with her knuckles, dropping her hand after and standing in place.

Sasuke doesn't take long to answer, and when he does, she's sure her eyes show just how happy she feels inside to see him after so many days.

She hadn't been planning to pay him a visit the same day she knew he was due to arrive, but it had been a spur of the moment. This could not wait until tomorrow.

With this in mind, she smiles up at him and contains the urge to envelop her arms around his midsection. Her hands tingle anyway.

He lets her in and closes the door after, locking it with a lazy flick of his hand. Then, he looks at her.

His only visible eye, for the other one is covered by his very long bangs, stares at her with some sort of tiredness in it. His shirt sticks to his chest due to heavy perspiration and his pants are full of twigs and dirt, and she knows he has probably arrived not too long ago. He looks tired, like someone who hasn't slept in days, which is not that far off from the truth.

His appearance only makes her resolve harden.

His eyes shift to the small bag in her hands and he looks back at her own eyes with curiosity. "Mission?"

"Hm?"

"The bag; are you going on a mission?" He points at it with a tilt of his head and she looks at said bag for a split moment.

"Ah, no, actually."

She looks away with timidness, something that makes her blush harder because her sudden shyness is just pointless. She was so convinced about it a few minutes ago and now she can barely stand with the same certainty under his scrutiating gaze.

So, she grabs onto the small bag harder, feeling her hands start to sweat onto the dark cloth, lifting her eyes to his own and showing her teeth in a small smile.

"I..." She starts. "I know you probably don't think about these things, I mean, you're traveling and such all the time. But, I figured I could, maybe, give you a trim?"

"Excuse me?"

Sakura feels the colour return to her cheeks. She opens the bag and steps closer to him, showing him its contents: some combs of different sizes, a razor, and some scissors, among other things of the sort.

"You... Wanna trim my hair," he says as though he's telling that more to himself than to her, in a small voice.

She closes the bag. "Yep. If that's okay with you, I mean..."

Her eyes search his and, noticing his enfuriantingly long bangs covering his lilac eye, she lets out a huff and points to it.

"Look at this." Without thinking twice about it, she lifts her hand and moves his bangs away, putting them behind his ear and dropping her hand with a satisfied smile.

"See? That's much better. I honestly don't know how you can be so efficient as a ninja when you can't even see."

His lips twitch, eyes shining with amusement.

"I can see perfectly," he states.

"As I said, I don't know how," she points at him with her index finger, almost touching his chest at their proximity. "Why do you think Naruto got that haircut? His hair was almost as long as yours before."

He lets out a snort; she can see the ghost of a smile on his mouth. "Did you trim his hair too? If so, save it."

She crosses her arms across her chest, looking at him with a small frown marring her features.

"It wasn't me, as a matter of fact. With how it came out, I'm almost sure he did it himself."

They both stare at each other after that. She lets out a chuckle and he finally lets a smile appear, white teeth showing. It makes her heart do a little jump inside her chest, but she quickly ignores it and speaks. "The point is that he can now see better, and his hair isn't bothering him."

He hums deep in thought, moving his eyes away from her and looking around his living room. "You know I have my Sharingan and Rinnegan and I can see everything much better than you will ever, even with my eyes fully covered."

She squints at him and his excuses, moving her own hair up into a loose ponytail as a way to clear her thoughts. He locks his eyes on her again with some sort of superiority, but she extinguishes said thing with a few words.

"Even with all of your ocular powers, that haircut doesn't help the fact that you look homeless."

After a small frown forms on the bridge between his dark brows, Sakura represses the urge to show him her tongue in a childish act of victory. Instead, she turns and looks around his house.

"Let's go to the bathroom, that way I can clean everything better."

He nods, the frown still touching his face, and he leads her to what she recognises to be his room. It's small and simple, with a single-person bed next to the opposite wall, bedsheets navy and white. There is a big closet next to it and that's about it. She remembers seeing it exactly the same way a few years back.

They enter a sliding door on the side of the small room, a bathroom so small that she has to lean her body closely to the sink if she doesn't want to be in his personal space. There's the sink, the toilet right next to it, and the tiny shower is behind said toilet. There's barely any space for her to breathe, so she leaves the door open.

She tells him to sit on the closed toilet seat, and she starts by wetting most of his hair with her fingers. His head is now at the same height as her chest, which makes it much easier to reach for his hair and cut it.

She cuts his open tips first. It's not so hard when all he needs is just shorter hair; with the way he's been carrying himself, he would only need a beard to complete the perverted hermit look.

She laughs in her mind, picturing Sasuke with a beard. It would certainly be something new—and also terrifying, she admits to herself.

With a small shake of her head, she finishes the back of his head and moves in front of him to trim his bangs.

He looks up at her from his seated position, carefully following her hands as she takes hold of a strand on the left side of his face and combs it. With a quick movement, she cuts the tips square. Then, she tilts her scissors and cuts them oblique, shorter next to his face and growing longer as they move away.

He sighs against her hand, and she suppresses the quiver that threatens to run up her spine.

"Was my hair really that long before?" He murmurs, taking her by surprise and making her still her hands for a moment.

"It was, believe me," she says, taking hold of another strand and doing the same type of trim.

There is silence after that, and she doesn't expect him to continue talking, but he does anyway.

"I didn't notice."

Her eyes snap up to lock on his own, trying to decipher if Sasuke is really trying to establish some type of small talk. With a slow intake of breath, she nods a little and closes her mouth, finding it hard to focus on his hair anymore.

"I usually cut my own hair," she says, cutting through the silence. "It's kind of relaxing to me, and it's like taking a weight off my back, quite figuratively and literally. It's quick but it's freeing."

He looks at some point on the floor before responding with something that leaves her stilling her hand movements altogether.

"My mother used to cut my hair often," he speaks, so low that she fears he doesn't want to say it. "Too often, actually; I hated it. I still do."

She makes a mental note that maybe that would explain his excuses to not cut his hair a few minutes ago, but doesn't say anything out loud for a few seconds. And when she does, she does so hesitantly, afraid that he will storm out of the bathroom and not touch the topic again.

"Why did you hate it?"

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, like a dry laugh, and shakes his head a little now that she has taken her hands away from his hair. She only has to trim the bangs on the other side of his face, but she doesn't dare to move.

"I always wanted to play with my big brother, as any young child would," he pauses, voice smooth but on the verge of breaking. "But Itachi was always on missions and meetings."

The image of a young and cute Sasuke, still innocent and enjoying the world, chasing after his big brother all the time so that he would play with him makes a warmth crawl up her chest. She bites her lower lip, listening more intently.

"Most of the time, when I could finally get him to play with me, my mother wanted to trim my hair and I had to go do it, or else." A small smile graces his lips, but his eyes look more sad than happy, reliving a thousand memories of people that he can never see again. "Sometimes I wonder if she just had to get me away from Itachi; he was always busy, after all."

She leans down to his level, putting both of her hands on his broad but sagging shoulders, and makes sure that he's looking at her when she speaks, their noses almost touching.

Her eyes soften from across his own.

"I'm sure your brother wanted to play with you every time you asked him. I don't know anyone who has ever loved you more than he did, Sasuke-kun," she murmurs.

And then her hands hitch on the material of his dark shirt.

She notices his eyes widen in surprise for a moment, before they soften just as much as her own, and by then it's too late.

She feels her heartbeat in her ears, drumming insistently against the realisation of her words.

_You do, _she almost hears him say. It's so clear in her mind that, if it weren't for the incessant silence, she would have sworn she heard him say it.

But then she does.

"You do, Sakura," he whispers. If she wasn't sure before, she is now. His voice evaporates in the air around them and she feels her knees go weak.

His words pound inside her brain, and she has to deny their truthfulness.

She has loved Sasuke for as long as she can remember, and she would go as far as to give her live for his own; and she knows this is what Itachi would do, too. Itachi and Sakura may always share their love for Sasuke, but not really.

She feels her shake her head at the man in front of her a second after.

"They are different types of love, Sasuke-kun, you can't compare them," she whispers as well, if only to not disrupt the air and dispel this moment.

"Yes, but my other family members loved me differently too, and every member of Team Seven loves me differently as well," he says. "Except you."

"You're talking about romantic love," she says.

"Don't you?"

_Don't you love me?_

It takes her a while to understand him, and by then she thinks he might move away and forget about their conversation, but he just looks into her green eyes; waiting. He looks so... So...

He looks as if her answer could change the entire world, and it makes her blink in awe, even though he probably already knows what she's going to say.

"I love you."

His breath catches in his throat.

"But," she sighs, leaning away from him and taking her hands off his shoulders. "I think your-"

A gasp escapes her throat when he stills her by wrapping his hand around one of her arms, incapacitating her from fully taking her hands off his shoulders and moving away.

The scissors and the comb, still in her right hand, sound loudly in her ears when they hit the floor.

With such slowness that she feels she's in a movie, he lets go of her arm and grabs her chin with his thumb and index fingers.

Everything in her mind goes completely blank when he moves closer.

Time stops, the birds cease from chirping outside, and everything fades into nothing and everything in the span of one mere second. One moment she's looking at him, still like a sculpture made from clay, and the next second she's closing her eyes at the feel of something warm against her lips.

He kisses her.

It's short, just a peck on the lips that makes her wish for more. Then, he moves his face away and looks at her, as if searching for something.

She opens her eyes slowly only to widen them immediately.

Sasuke stands from the toilet seat like a knight in shining armour, only that he's dirty and broken and so much better than anything else. She tightens her hold on his shoulders, feeling as though she'll fall if she doesn't hold onto something, anything.

It's almost like he's on autopilot when he moves his hand from her chin to her cheek, caressing her skin like he's been waiting for this moment since forever. The prospect makes no sense in her brain, but she doesn't think about if he had wanted to kiss her before when he's looking at her with something so aching to desire that she can do nothing but move closer.

She stands on the tips of her toes and presses her lips to his own, much like the earlier peck, only that, this time, she starts moving her lips against his. And he follows, as if they have been doing this for centuries. She relishes in the way he moves his lips slowly against her own.

There are no tongues connecting, no fireworks bursting in the background, no teeth clashing because of the hurriedness. It's slow and it's sweet and it's much more than Sakura expected.

His lips feel soft and warm against hers, and they move with enough force to create butterflies in the lower region of her abdomen.

She moves her hands from his shoulders down to his chest, pressing on it lightly without knowing from the surge of emotions that rush through her, and he moves his hand to the back of her head, kissing her more deeply and inhaling hard through his nose.

She feels the sink dig into her side sharply when they finally move apart.

Their chests heave up and down and their eyes open to gaze into each other, and Sasuke hasn't seen her look so beautiful before as when she smiles like she does now.

Time seems to move faster now, she can hear the birds start their chirping outside again, and everything comes back to her.

Then, the moment is broken, and she notices the strands of hair that are longer than the rest of his hair, and she wonders if she ever thought her first kiss would be in Sasuke's bathroom, while she was cutting his hair. A chuckle escapes her at how ordinary the surroundings are and at how normal it all had felt.

"Come on, sit and let me finish this mess."

When she's done, he offers to cook her lunch.

And when she leaves his apartment, she strangely feels stronger than when she breaks mountains with her fists.


End file.
